• 11/6/15 8:42 pm
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The king sits on a throne of folley
Drinking putrid wine of green
Wondering why his kingdoms not jolly
After all, they have him for their king!
This pompous monarch alone he dwells
In a crumbling castle of stone
With narry a serveant to draw from the wells
Which dried up in sunken years gone
And still this old man sits on the throne
Alone in a kingdom of crypts
Wondering why his kingdom of bones
Do not hail his splendid new ships
Now barren this land once boundless and great
Has fallen to time and decay
And on through the years the king sits on slate
Yelling to have things his way
But never more will through those halls
The sound of feasts be heard
for their old blind king abonded still calls
But answered by narry a word.
Hope you enjoyed this poem! I certainly enjoyed wrighting it!
Drinking putrid wine of green
Wondering why his kingdoms not jolly
After all, they have him for their king!
This pompous monarch alone he dwells
In a crumbling castle of stone
With narry a serveant to draw from the wells
Which dried up in sunken years gone
And still this old man sits on the throne
Alone in a kingdom of crypts
Wondering why his kingdom of bones
Do not hail his splendid new ships
Now barren this land once boundless and great
Has fallen to time and decay
And on through the years the king sits on slate
Yelling to have things his way
But never more will through those halls
The sound of feasts be heard
for their old blind king abonded still calls
But answered by narry a word.
Hope you enjoyed this poem! I certainly enjoyed wrighting it!
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