Red Pen

marks the page

Blood that marks the Battle of

Wills.

I want it my way

She wants it Hers

Stick in a period

replace it with a semicolon

use a different word there

reads Better.

imagery

simile

irony

noble knights all important

in their strategic ways

I deploy them

like soldiers on a snow-white field

wrapped in the black armor of typewriter ink

according to My Plan.

Her Red Sword

slashes

at these subjects of

My Mind

trying to make them Her own

loyal to Herself

Her Majesty's creed states

Defiance cannot be tolerated, or

"Off with their heads!"

reject, correct, revise

noble knights return bathed in a gory mass of

Garish Crimson

and Only then

Peace can be achieved

a temporary truce

Battlelines silent,

still.

Cast-off armor lays like empty eggshells in the

nest that is Creation

the smooth white field dotted with strange black forms

blood-stained no longer

I can't recognize them

no longer Mine

belonging to

Another Kingdom.