-A lament by the preteen Queen of Mesopotamia.

Late September,
During summer,
My great kingdom was obliterated by raiders.

My poor people,
Young and feeble,
Were all mercilessly butchered by those strangers.

Every temple,
Made of beryl,
Was then looted and set on fire by their archers!

And as for me,
A preteen Queen,
Slavery is now my role for their vile leaders!

What was known yet unseen
was a king and a dying queen
holding their last kiss good bye
That day the kiss died

He then ordered all his men
to bind all lovers in his den  
Every embrace ever lied
The day the kiss died

The Judge and the Law
all came to find flaw
In any poet or guide
The day the kiss died

Finding two lovers, that spoke
of how his and her lips broke
Evidence, they could not hide
The day the kiss died

They cried,
“We hold and we touch
yet it’s not enough in as much
a kiss can’t be denied”
The day the kiss died

With a kiss hid in their heart
They tore them apart
and took them aside
The day the kiss died

Children chanted, “the kiss of death
will draw your last breath.
Don’t or dare to no longer abide”
The day the kiss died

And all the people they wept
and the sweepers that swept
the sad streets, they sighed
The day the kiss died

In lace they all dressed
in hope to lay the last kiss to rest
In a coffin to confide
The day the kiss died

That night,
Artists repainted the sky
Lanterns hung high
In the black rain they cried
The day the kiss died

While white doves bled red
It was heard and it was said
even the angels cried
The day the kiss died

The clowns in all places
Painted a frown on their faces
for all grooms and the brides
The day the kiss died

Old widows slept as it seems
waiting for their dreams
nuns by their side
The day the kiss died

The romantics broke doors
of bottle shops and liquor stores
yet the wine had all dried
The day the kiss died

Yet, still up north and down south
lovers, for love, open their mouth
welcoming death near and wide
The day the kiss died

Your life's twilight on a
September evening came.
And ferried you were by
crimson cherubs; conveyed
in splendour on a celestial
cruise, to gates pleasant for
a permanent reign.
Your reign on the throne
on a September autumn
exited,
but your indelible legacy
in the hearts of Brits
is enthroned gloriously.

Elizabeth;
Of immensely esteemed birth.
Highly respected in life,
but more respected in death.
Having a crown that ceased to decay
for many decades long.
A queen of kings, but still a wife,
custodian of traditions strong.
She that saw historic anniversaries,
She that saw millennial discoveries,
She that transcends previous monarchies
in length of days and pivotal reign.
Queen of a realm of historic gains,
where the sun never sets on their plains.
All to Westminster their griefs convey
to our departed who countless smiles gave.
And for your funeral would many for death crave.

Queen Elizabeth II has died and she isn't the Queen anymore.
Her husband, "Philip Mountbatten" died just one year before.
Elizabeth II has died at the age of 96 and it will change things.
Her eldest son, Charles, former Prince of Wales is now the King.
She was the longest serving Queen, she served for 70 years.
She became Queen in 1952 and for decades, she was revered.
She celebrated her Silver, Golden, Diamond and Platinum Jubilees.
She asked people to "never give up, never despair" about Covid 19 which is a horrible disease.
She was Royalty and had wealth, power and fame.
Now that she's dead, England won't be the same.

I look into her face, curiously more familiar, more frequent now on her departure. And particularly more prominent in profile.  
I look into her face and see the easy smile that comes with age and with the assurance of knowing herself and her place in the bigger scheme of things, particularly in the scheme of relatively earthly royalty and the ultimately heavenly King.
I look into her face and recall it in prayer at her husband's funeral, and imagine it now at rest, in darkness and in joy, in a brighter light.
I look into her face, on my pound coin, in the corner of my letter, on the street bill board, on the front of the paper, on every channel, an image etched in my mind's eye, a loud echo of a lifetime of consistency and service.  
I look and then in a prayer thank her God and my God for gifting us this servant queen, who lived well and only fell once she had done enough to help ensure others' lives were better for her being there.
And I pray for our king, that his long apprentiship in her firm serves him well and serves us well as we walk on together, into the unknown, in thanks for the service of leaders.

The Queen has passed away
No longer will she reign
Just another day but,
It will never be the same

The world without a queen
Thoughts shift as we all take stock
Everywhere she’s been
Solid, like a rock

Mayhap a relic of the past
Promoting privilege and class
But the dye was cast, for her
In slippers made of glass

She was the rhythm of our days
The anchor of our nights
Now we stand here in a haze
Bow our heads and dim the lights

We say good night and thanks, to
The bearer of the crown
The face upon our stamps
And we watch the sun go down.