King of the roaches
you are

With your crown of garbage
and your kingdom of filth

In your lazy chair throne
With a controller of realms
The crusader of Los Santos

No don't get up
don't dare lift a finger
ill come to you

and linger
counting the insects as they crawl across the wall
across the primitive artwork of a previous lover

three paces behind
close enough to see
to speak
to touch

far enough away
for if anyone saw
to pull away and dismiss

you need your freedom your highness?
is that all you wish?

please be my guest
to frolic with the trollop in the kitchen
or even the harlot
who's ruby red lips you so distastefully admire

take no notice
after your gallivanting
how quietly I have escaped the castle.