Saturday, July 19, 2008

Kings.

What lives on this earth shall surely turn,
Live and love before it's sent to burn,
By it's own hand or that of it's kin,
For only the end meets those who begin.

In this ember, this shard of dying fire,
Lies the power of men and their dying empire,
For which they send their young to the grave.
And the world is torn, her children in scorn,
All fighting for something different to save,
Or for an ideal that is not yet born.

Ancient kings protected their rings
And jewels under constructs of stone.
And when the trap sings,
Even the bravest of kings
Knows now is his time to atone.
For as they rest in these rooms, these tombs,
And rot slowly, wrapped in cloth,
A new presence looms in their descendants' wombs,
To rid us all of this freezing sloth.

What's true of sands, dunes on the lands,
Is that they can kill you twice.
And despite your plans, it's in the sun's hands,
Whether you're done in by fire or ice.
It's arid and dry, not a cloud in the sky,
Nor a drop to quench your life's thirst,
But the heat passes by, as the sun starts to die,
It's a wonder whether you'll find haven or the grave,
Or if the grave will find you first.

Some think that under an undying love,
They will be guided to heaven above,
While others must cross the Styx.
But while the rivergoers sing,
And praise their own king,
The guided ones are up to their old tricks.

For not every king needs a crown to rule,
And even fewer need only a book,
But in the end it's only the fool,
Who believes the light with hardly a first look.

But the kings with crowns and courts
Do better for their serfs and slaves,
Than for a hidden king, of sorts,
Who holds every answer you crave.

Because the kings of men give the common their food,
And protect their borders from the vicious and crude,
But the king of kings isn't here in the dunes,
He's only found in subtexts and runes,
So much for his care, compassion and love,
When he's watching you suffer, doing nothing above.
And for now, in this world, you are alone,
Your god isn't here, so kneel, worship,
And kiss my golden throne.

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