God save the Quee

I'm holding your frail body by its throat.
Ribs showing, spine poking from your back,
More skeleton than flesh,
You stare back at me.

My intention is not for your pain.
I am but a marionette.
Your starvation is set in my strings.

You're less than three feet tall.
After all, you are all small.
All shades of brown.

I can't tear my gaze from your form.
I am guilty of these crimes.
Sabr, sabr, sabr.
Patience, patience, patience.

I will bide my time.
I will learn, then grow,
And it may cost you your life.
But when the time comes,
And it will,
I will strike.
We will.

Sabr, sabr, sabr.
Patience, patience, patience.

For now, though,
I see my shame hidden within your reflection.
I see the sadness in your eyes.
And momentarily, I am afraid--
Can you see mine?