Raven, Queen of Thieves

skullduggery and bamboozle were the trademarks
of Pirate’s Landing, the taverns were made for shady deals
Backstabbing was as common there as in the halls
of political circles, but, a sense more literal

But, I marveled at the wayward endorsement
of criminals and their lofty intrigues
Fodder for my stories with their cheaply done deeds
murderers and robbers, shadows around every corner

What brought me here were the tales of a ruling
Queen of Thieves, treacherous and cruel, with an iron heart
but, naturally, as any writer knows
such a sort would be tall and as beautiful as she was mean

I followed the trails of whispers and gossip
and many were, in truth, dead ends
although, some held a trace of credence
it were these I sniffed out like a bloodhound

stories of her that defied belief, that she, if ever appeared,
descriptions abounded as to her visage, she carried a whip
and branding iron to mark the fool that crossed her
She always wore black leather and by some accounts, a cape

a cape that flowed in her stride, and just as suddenly
she would vanish after all the pockets were picked
and, in her wake, leave her brand, an X that marked
the flesh of the one she sought most to scar for death

and, those amongst the wallowers and wayfarers
that would betray the whereabouts of her territory
her vengeance hard and swift came down upon them
in all of her wrath, for she seemed a wraith

alas, these harbored fancies and fantasies
I could only discern were of faintly remembered
half-truths and embellishments
for I never found her lair and I worried for my safety

in this village of corruption and dirty deals
where, for one gold tooth, a person could be killed
so, in failure I made my journey to more secure regions
beyond this ravenous, wretched dominion

and, just as I was about to board my vessel away
a whip surrounded me with little pain
“I heard you want to write of me without knowing me”
I was tugged and turned to see the woman everyone feared

and, of which was often both reviled and revered
she seemed less tall from the plank I was upon
but, face to face her eyes were black like coal
“you must not leave here without the story told”

so, for months I was her prisoner and forced
to put my pen to pad as she sometimes would dictate
and, at other times, left me to my thoughts to fill in
the rest, but, I had better write in goodness of her, too

for she’d have my head served to her pet lion
yet, she didn’t treat me cruelly or unpleasantly
until finally, my manuscript was complete
and, I was bound and blindfolded and put into a trunk

transported away to some unknown destiny
when I was surprisingly released by her henchmen
at the port of Katmandu. News of my book afore me
already published into a book which brought me fame.

Raven, Queen of Thieves


Binghamton, United States

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  • Narcissus17
  • mychaelalchemy
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