Friday, 12 February 2010

For Lee

The Scot Queen of Farringdon
Will no longer traipse its streets,
The city’s vast chessboard
Lies in shards at his feet.

A holographic shell
Hid his raw bones,
A touch of gothic
Laced his black throne.

Deft fingers wove
Such dark fantasy.
The Queen is now dead
Rest in peace, Lee.

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