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17 May 2009 @ 01:56 am
 

King of the Hill


The sad little king sat on his sad little hill,
Day after day, he sat perfectly still.
The world moved around him, ever twirling wheel,
But the sad little man didn't know how to feel.
One day around noon, the spider came by
As the hours did pass, the spider asked why
Night after night, on the hill he would stand,
With his robes all in tatters and his crown in his hand?
But the sad little king just stared straight ahead,
His gaze had room enough for only the dead.
Soon the spider gave up, and nestled in to sleep,
And the sad little man gave not even a peep.
As the sun the next day came up high in the west,
A bear wandered over, with voice deep in his chest,
He puffed up his shoulders, and stood at full height
Saying, "look at my strength, isn't it such a sight?
But you make not a sound, what is it you desire?"
But the sad little king's grim frown would not tire.
Even as the bear laid down came the lion and ass,
And curled at his feet, reclined in the grass.
And the lion gave a growl, asking, "Is this not the peace,
That you have longed for your whole life, the violence to cease?"
But the sad little man could not be impressed
By any such miracles, no matter how they were dressed.
So the beast sat together, and around him they wept,
But the sad little king never cried, laughed, nor slept.
And so things continued, day after day
For no matter how many gathered, alone he did stay.
Till out of the east the birds flew ever near,
Cloaks of feathers a'twirl, they showed not a fear
Of the sad little man with his crown in his hand,
And his entourage of beast, from hill to tree strand.
But it made no difference, no matter how much they played,
The man sat in silence, and in silence he stayed.
Winter came with cold snow, and Spring melted it off,
Summer brought back all the grass blankets of cloth
And still the man stood gazing over the mountains,
The beasts of the fields, the rivers and fountains.
Words spread through the land, far and so near,
Of the sad little king who could shed not a tear.
The whispers reached the ears of a maiden so pure
And she knew in her heart that she held the cure
For the sad little king's heart held only strife
But she could give comfort for the rest of her life.
So across the mountains and up the hill she came
Where the animals gathered and the king stayed the same.
Her smile brought the sun up and chased away clouds,
Her legs stepped so lightly, parting the crowd.
The bear and the lion,, the great web and it's spider,
Even the birds stopped flying to see the grace flowing from her.
She walked to the king and stopped at his feat
And looking up at him, she began to speak-
"O' sad king on the hill, do you not have an eye?
I've come to give my heart to you, but you don't even sigh.
Is this not the love that you dream of and pray?"
But the sad little king didn't know what to say.
He stood staring ahead as she ran from him weeping,
All the animals left with her, the birds stopped their singing.
That's how things remain, the man's ever still.

A sad little king on his sad little hill.


imprimatur in articulo mortis
 
 
 
shesaphin on June 15th, 2009 11:30 pm (UTC)
Hey moderator, why don't I have posting access?

S

ps, you're a brilliant poet
The short-n-curly on the bar soap of your life.childeofloki on June 16th, 2009 06:24 am (UTC)
I will look into it.
The short-n-curly on the bar soap of your life.childeofloki on June 16th, 2009 06:25 am (UTC)
And now you should be able to.