Last thought of a dead king

A right and good king got betrayed by his own men just for the sake of some money. And now his soul wanders looking at the world, his kingdom, just after he got killed with treachery.


Once this kingdom was mine

“His might! The one just and right!”

They used to yell,

now my body lies amputated and pale

a man stands on my top with ale.

Brisking his mustache he said a few things,

“Your king is dead. I am your new king.”

I saw my own men at his abide

none of them took a fight,

and stood my side;

when he bolted up on me with a horde,

no one was beside me on my board.

For I felt too betrayed

and here lies the old king flayed.

Once, I conquered this country,

“The people no more shall stay hungry.”

I killed the king, who was vicious and cruel

and hence, began my rule.

But I discovered your morals stand

upon pillars of salt and sand.

Avarice can make righteousness flee

and my very own people turned on me.

You people have no dignity,

buried in clinks of pence lies your loyalty.

Behold, the new king’s rule,

I hope he is vicious and cruel.

For, you people don’t deserve just

And whipping you all is a must!


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