Another worshiper another pleasant smile, one of these days, I will trim the trial.
Make it easier, where others can reach me, soon there won't be space between them and this deity.
Self-made, still afraid, power can't corrupt me continually there is continuity in the desperate flittering light. I will pursue. I will find more, eternally, afraid, of this war.
A god-like king I stand among my people. And with a brush of silver, perhaps glitter the gold at their fingers, and they bow to my whims.
Conqueror, they call me vanquisher of foes. Emperor, they speak to my many woes.
Yet one, full flushed face stole my history, my legacy away.
I fell to the sword of this unkind dignitary of pain.
Swept from this realm, this sphere I belong.
I am no longer here and I hear no song.
YOU ARE READING
Banished From Here
PoetryWritten near the end of 2016, I looked back and tried to describe the way my deepest megalomaniac might perceive how my year went. The narrator, a ruler, questions his advisers and truly wanted them to understand his plight.
