The King of Shards and Metal Shaving,
His consort; Queen of Flaking Rust,
and the Prince of Powdered Pulverized Stone
reign over nothing but dust.
All they fear is a sudden gust
- a brazen wind or rebel breeze
that dares expose landscapes of chalky bone:
skeleton-subjects who once bent knees,
millions who bowed to their Majesties
proclaiming idiot-edicts, raving,
"This is Holy War!" "Righteous!" "Just!"
Now they are bleached remains past saving.
Blood was the wasted acid engraving
tributes in sand to names-unknown.
And none now hear the royal decrees
from each clown on each crumbling tin-foil throne.
The King of Gasping, Dying Moan,
The Queen of Last Convulsive Breath,
and the Prince of the Final Beat of the Heart
rule in their realm of death.