To Be King
~~~
Like the sting of rapier
The words cleave the trodden soul
Blood bound to the crimson spewed
In payment, the heavy toll
~~~
Mirrored image truculent
A child seen in repose
The wonder gone from their eyes
And wonder of where it goes
~~~
Flesh has born in body torn
Epitaphs in sullen grey
A feast is spread before us
Table filled with what we say
~~~
There upon white muslin sheet
Your past lies as your repast
A thousand lashes are struck
From dispersions that were cast
~~~
So, council not to anger
Speak only words in wisdom
For what we put in the world
Our kingdom it shall become
~~~
commonsensiblyspeaking 
yes, it is as we make it
Thanks, Beth! We forget that sometimes.
My brother, you are a master of the craft, the philosophy and the raison d’être of poetry. Marvellous!
Thank you, my dear friend! Your kind words and continuous support humble me.
You’re very welcome my friend! One learns a lot in life and in war…
If only more people understood to be called “king,” one must earn the right! A wonderful lesson that the words we say have a lasting impact. As adults we often look back and see the scorned child within, but we don’t have to keep repeating the patterns we know. This is another one for “The Entire World Needs to Read This” category!
You are too kind, my dear friend! If only I could find a publisher that thinks the way you do.
I have no doubt you could find a publisher. You are a phenomenal poet!
Your words are so humble~yet loud with truth and wisdom. What a beautiful balance. 💛
Thank you, Karla!
You’re welcome, Brad! ☺️
Seems like a good lesson for those who feel empowered to say anything over social media.
Agreed. Thank you, Pete!