Queen Of Swords

By Fiona Evans

Lately, 

it feels much like Sisyphean Labour. 

Like it’s an endless test of faith 

when they ready the caber.  

For all the bullets  

I’ve chewed  

and swallowed 

have left me so hollow. 

Not that they’d care  

and I doubt I would ever tell 

but my only friend  

slips every dawn  

as day welcomes hell. 

Progressed chart  

has a killing part. 

‘Loneliness’

is not a pretty piece  

when you’re the reference  

for the art.