The Prince is dead; alas,
He's left the princess in her tower
Alone with rocks and metals.
She'll clip herself down to size,
Swallow them till she's dead too.
The Princess is sequestered
Time for the King to rest and act
Pensively haphazardly. Is she fit?
He'll punish himself if not,
Bury himself in books and reason.
His mistress is working the garden,
Her flowers look much better than
The grave they rest on.
Fertilizing a catalyst for a beginning,
The old Patriarch shall fall. Will fall.
Is falling below the pit of its stomach,
Tears welling in its puffy fucking face
Afraid of defeat, they'll have to start over.
The king secretly waited for his son to die,
Power isn't genetic, nor is compassion.
Resilience lies in youth, power in wisdom.
I hereby grant you keys to your kingdom.
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