Let me slip into my
Queen.  

Appetite,
Slumber,
Sloughs off of her
as easily as water.

She passes through, to
The other side of Fear
In her penetrability
She has no Peer

Shapeless threats of the night
Merely dampenings of light

Let me slip on my frigid
Queen.

Mortal fears free of her lease
Reign wild, at the very least

But before my Queen
They quiver, shrivel,
Into a sheen
Of ice, from sniffling drivel.

Her countenance a light deadpan,
Her governance, her birthright, tends
A sooty silence,
A dumb penance,
Mum.