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


Tell me what you think

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: