Underworld goddess,
queen of the departed.
Souls fluttering by,
all cluttering the sky.
Monarch butterflies
never again to rise:
Broken, guillotined,
Marie Antoinette seams.

Underworld goddess,
queen of the departed.
Ruler of the dead,
eyes cold and hair blood-red.
Both sinners and saints
arrive in dire straits.
The end of the race,
their final resting place.

Underworld goddess,
queen of the departed.
You’ll meet her someday,
once you’ve reached your last page.
Frightening perhaps,
to think of your collapse,
but she will be there
as you cope with despair.

Underworld goddess,
queen of the departed.
A mother, your friend,
guiding you to the end.
Now enter the dark,
led by your matriarch.
Upon your demise,
she gains a butterfly.