Chant of the Insect Queen

Ridiculous mammals!  You caper and bleat,
Declaring you're worthy of royal acclaim!
You trumpet accomplishments, stomping your feet
And pounding your bosoms: it's always the same!
But under you, creeping in silence, benign,
Unnoticed, neglected, my tribes intertwine,
Alive in a fashion that's truly unknown
To creatures reliant on skin and on bone.
My people extend from the heights of the sky
To watery depths where the sun hasn't shown,
For I am the Queen of the Insects, am I!

You squirrels and you sparrows, you think you're so neat,
Parading around without chitin or shame!
Your blood, I'll admit, is the tastiest treat:
It warms and intoxicates, burns like a flame,
And tickles the innards with sweetness and brine.
Accept that you're fodder and nothing divine,
Insipid, your usefulness less than the stone
We grind into gravel to carefully hone
Our spears for defending ourselves when you try
Invading our precincts.  This isn't your zone!
For I am the Queen of the Insects, am I!

Detestable!  That's what I call the conceit
Displayed in your dealings!  I'm guessing your aim
Would seek to eradicate, crush, and delete
The beings who govern the planet, who tame
The vastness around us but don't undermine
The forces of nature, adjusting them fine
And keeping the balance from coming unsewn!
The hubris!  I bristle and cannot condone
The manner in which you conceive to deny
The truth of the world—How you twist!  How you moan!—
For I am the Queen of the Insects, am I!

It's not that I'm hostile.  I know you must eat.
You breathe and have babies.  We're all in the game.
Existence demands its contestants compete,
But really, we're partners in all but the name.
Resolving our squabbles, we ought to align,
Resisting the urges that so disincline
Our working together.  Our hearts should've grown,
Embracing each other through storms that've blown.
We do a disservice by spreading the lie
That taps us as enemies.  Let it alone!
For I am the Queen of the Insects, am I!

Alas, I'm a dreamer, a fool, a complete
And utter embarrassment, silly and lame.
I scuttle from wainscot, just wanting to meet,
And bam!  The invective!  You poison and maim!
Discouragement beckons; I want to resign,
But no!  I resist it, refusing to whine!
Creation has begged that I hold to my throne,
And so I remain despite snow and cyclone.
Along with my people, I simply won't die
But chivvy you always, a batty old crone.
For I am the Queen of the Insects, am I!

So come and be merry with worker and drone,
You mammals so surly and accident-prone!
Foundations get crumbly and walls go awry:
Accept us!  There's time if you want to atone,
For I am the Queen of the Insects, am I!