Fit for a King

Was it the visions that told her so?
Told her to see them, to hear them
The main character in her own paranoid play
That part where she leaves us –
Leaves us
Split and broken –
Her mind
Split and broken -

Running wild, bucolic at times
Never stopping until her body stopped
She had babes loving them little in life
Yet teaching them life; after life
She wrote it all down for us to read
Each wild, eccentric, illusionary deed

She was fit for a King, so it’s told
She kept his name, never letting go
Even though she let go

Kept a bottle of whiskey under the sink
For those special times, to help her think
We rested her there in Whiskey Town

We thought it fit
Fit for her, Fit for a King

Her final chapter unrefined
A memorial with none but 4
We who cared, we who could
Who rested her demons – lay them down
Out there in Whiskey Town
Let her be gone, the torment let loose
Into the waters, the soil, the woods

We thought it fit
Fit for her, Fit for a King