Walks down the hall,
A kings solemn stride.
No crown, no home,
A husk of desire.
In the princely dawn,
Strides up, this sire.
White face cracked, whole.
A kings solemn pride.
YOU ARE READING
Often confusing
PoetrySecond part to a muses musings because wattpad has a story limit. . . I mean an enthralling book of stories
