monarchy
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The sun
Set on the King,
His crown gleaming as he,
Shrieked with hatred
That the sun was commanding the attention
Of the world.
Intimacy measured with supplies yardstick
Tender sun shines on the oppulent
Red stains encrusted by white
Escutcheon covers the fraudulent
With mesial in muck
Abstract of the unconscious gunner
Morning bells boom betwixt lofting ashes and
Unsheathed blokes razing the town;
Pirates about pillaging and raping
As they please;
Militia have fled the town.
Morning bells strike as the hanging and
Closed walls, walled hearts
narrow halls, hollow parts.
A man alone, set apart
Black Turnstone, hidden heart.
High throne, thin skin
Men kneel to kings,
And kings kneel to gods.
And though no monarchy holds my allegiance,
And no deity my faith,
