Sunday, 25 September 2016


The king is dead
The courtiers fled
The soldiers bled
For a loaf of bread
The maid it fed
Now makes his bed
And in her head
Wakes a foreign dread

These bars of steel
Sheer walls of stone
Have echoed forth
Many thoughts unknown
Cut through the cracks
New sun has shone
That light is mine
And mine alone
I am a beast
Of heart and bone
A hungry seed
In desert sown
When towering weeds
Had overgrown
I wrung their necks
To forge a throne
A summer sung
Among my own
The bird remains
The nest has flown

For them that see
Past the canopy
Waits a misery
You must agree
You will decree
The swelling sea
Her sunken tree
Ever home to me

When in that boil
I choose to be
Am I then caged?
Pray, are you free?