Flogged and Hog Tied

Like a noose snuggling round my windpipe after I've stepped off the chair of despair...used and abused and not even fused for what is a slave anyway? Someone to be beaten then eaten, flattered than battered in steel rope binding intertwining paying for dining in the dim dew of day lilies licking the wounds of puss and disgust as I decay like rust among the dragonflies with ripped off wings once kings, only to sing a sad lullaby of reaping a reward of discord when blood spatter matters and welts wash the wicked flesh and that mesh that feels the chain beating  like rain then the hogs squeal at the latest appeal....taking advantage of disadvantage and weakness won't win the Preakness even with fancy hats and mint juleps, on my knees planting tulips, for once  a slave always a slave longing for the One who won't mind, loosing the bind. Besides, who needs a glass slipper when you have the big dipper and cherries only madder in the moonlight.