In her shadow, lives, this MISS-MYSTIQUE
A flaw, who’s the awe, of Buckingham
At power’s corridors, plays, hide and seek
With the, faith of Queen, this, MISS FEARSOME!

How a, bedizened polemic, MISS RASPUTIN
Defangs, her foes, with, seductive guile
With Father’s, skin to win, mother’s soul, to sin
She leaves, behind Kate, by many, a mile!

Do dare, to call her, MISS MISS-CHIEF
But not, the thief of, Royal Grandson
Lest you, want to bite, your own belief
When she, chastens you, with a, vile lesson!

Never ever pity, pious “MISS MISS-ERY
She is, the sin, of her, sacrament
New alchemist, of, royal chemistry
Did Satan, Invent, MISS-E-STRANGE-MENT !!!

© 2020 Vikas Chandra

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