A tale was told to me
Of an angry king of old
Whose kingdom fell to a bitter force,
To an anger he could not hold.
He was said to be an honest man,
Courteous and contrite
But widely known for fits of rage
Causing many to fear his might.
One such fit lingered long,
And the kingdom felt its looming
Like a shadow cast by the king's emotions
With seeds of unrest blooming.
On a stormy night, in the castle chambers
Where the king lied fast asleep,
A visitor came and in the king's chest
He plunged his naked steel deep.
"Why?" The king asked,
His dying voice soft and low.
The visitor answered the king,
His eyes with a somber glow,
"A man who crowns his anger king
Cedes the right to rule his life
And this is how your anger rules,
With the cold edge of a knife."
Apr 18, 2015
Apr 18, 2015 at 11:48 AM UTC
A tale was told to me
Of an angry king of old
Whose kingdom fell to a bitter force,
To an anger he could not hold.
He was said to be an honest man,
Courteous and contrite
But widely known for fits of rage
Causing many to fear his might.
One such fit lingered long,
And the kingdom felt its looming
Like a shadow cast by the king's emotions
With seeds of unrest blooming.
On a stormy night, in the castle chambers
Where the king lied fast asleep,
A visitor came and in the king's chest
He plunged his naked steel deep.
"Why?" The king asked,
His dying voice soft and low.
The visitor answered the king,
His eyes with a somber glow,
"A man who crowns his anger king
Cedes the right to rule his life
And this is how your anger rules,
With the cold edge of a knife."