She’s Morphine, queen of the vaccines,
She bruises so cold with nooses of plated gold.
A needle’s kiss to silence the screams,
In veins she flows, makes the broken bold.

With hollow eyes, she numbs the ache,
A dance of shadows in a hazy dream.
Her whispers soothe, her promises fake,
Like liquid sin in a silver gleam.

She lures with comfort, draped in deceit,
A siren song beneath trembling skin.
Each breath grows slower, bitter yet sweet,
As she pulls them deeper, where light grows thin.

Her kingdom reigns in shattered minds,
A queen of solace for the souls who weep.
But every high leaves truth behind,
And in her grasp, they fall too deep.

The final dose, the fatal crown,
Golden nooses now tighten tight.
The queen smiles soft, then drags them down,
To sleep forever in endless night.