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The early morning castle stirred, |
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The King of the forest stared vacantly, |
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Toward the east. |
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His bloodshot eyes caught no reasoning, |
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A lazy fly settled on his suit of velvet, |
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And the king cursed the creation. |
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Like an unwanted shadow, |
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The Queen of conscience entered the already broken morning, |
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She spoke, "Eat my master". |
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The king moved to a coffin corner, |
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Where another lazy fly contemplated the dust of time. |
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"Bring me a kingdom and I will eat," |
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his voice disturbed the dust and the fly. |
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"I am without power to bring you power," |
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The Queen sighed like an autumn breeze. |
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"Then I will not eat." |
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The King moved to his guilty throne, |
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And seated himself amongst his ancestors. |
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"My King, if you want a kingdom and power, |
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If you want money and love, if you want respect and admiration, |
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then you must go out, and take it." |
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The King stared vacantly to the east, |
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And a dozen flies waiting in the dust stared back, |
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"I am the King, it is not my part to capture and claim, |
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It is my people's duty." |
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The Queen cried and the little crystal tears tickled her cheeks. |
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She brushed them away angrily, |
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"You have no people, and while you remain the ghost of the past, |
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you will never have people or a kingdom," |
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She ran from the pathetic chamber. |
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A fly left with her. |
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The king breathed and thought deeply, |
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"I will have people," he said nervously to his conscience, |
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"I will have people." |
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The King of the forest never rose again from his guilty throne, |
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And the dust and the lazy flies lived on him, |
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And the King lived on his dreams, |
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And died on them. |
