The King

I used to be a king

I lorded over my subjects

Ruled them with an iron fist

Laughed at their subjugation

Made them pay taxes

And kill their infants

When I tired of seeing babies

On mother’s hips

I drank to excess

Partook of many women

And loved none

My armies killed innocents

I brandished my sword

As they cowered in fear

I rode a black steed

My battle armor was magnificent

I was killed by my advisor

The one with the sly smile

And graying beard

Pouring poison in my chalice

As I languished in my royal bed

With two women at my side

I died without fanfare

And the people rejoiced

To be rid of their affliction

And I smiled at the reprieve

To be free of the encumbrance

Of being the king

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