Poetry to Save my Dying Spirit

I was his queen, or so I thought,
‘Til it all came crashing down
Now I’m the Queen of Bruises,
And I wear his thorny crown.

I am the queen of something
That I don’t want to be
Bakura is the King of Pain,
And he won’t set me free.

For our first anniversary,
He gave me a broken heart.
That’s the sign, I should have known,
That things would fall apart.

Now I sit up every night
Dreaming of running away,
But he apologizes so sweetly
And convinces me to stay.

So I’m the Queen of Bruises and
From my tower, I look out
Onto a world I used to know
But now must live without.

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