then

Fain affection from rodant kings
haughty finite smile.
You will be lost when your lipstick caves
with your dreaded destiny. A hag, thought so
by the same audience you left me for.
You left me for the hours of pretense,
squandering the last nights of your magic
for dead heavy gold,
which paid for your stay
on the decending thrown.
I wish you would have stayed, homely next to me.
You would have invented a wilderness
with your thoughts back then.
Your mind is strewn hapless like a beggar now,
because you have forgotten me,
like all the colors that once crowned you.