before and after

after the censor
has
left,
when the queen has died,
who
wasn't a queen
to begin with,
but a serf
to her own wrong
ways of
thinking,
dysfunction to the nth
degree inside.
when
the stick is left
behind,
the rusted
crown,
the sword, those
blank
staring and ever
watchful eyes
are gone,
you sit back
and become who were
before
the storm,
before the wolf
in sheep's clothing,
before the devil
had arrived.