Crownless King

He claimed nobility

but he ruled from a throne of splinters,

hollow wood propped up by old favors

structured plys of pressed together half-spoken threats

and borrowed names

bones too brittle to hold the weight of his lies.

The crown was never forged

he fashioned it himself from brass wire

and had it placed upon his brow

by hands too tired to argue.

it slipped often -

not from its heft -

but from the lack of a spine

to hold it upright.

He kept no court

only mirrors that mimicked his own bows

the gilded framing peeling leaves of gold

like chipped paint

weathered from fractured sentiments

the kind that breaks in the whispers

that follow bitter unjust rage.

His reign was built on papier-mâché

ruled by decrees of gaslight

while he shuffled decks of tarot cards with panic

and moths chewed holes

in a stolen velvet cloak dyed purple

with fear.

I once offered him

a garland of wheat and olive leaves,

called him a man

instead of a myth.

He mistook it for surrender

and declared victory

with silent parades of red flags

marching to the beat of his own

fairway applause.

I saw him last

in an orchard we never planted

humming a song

he once claimed as his own

no crown.

no reflection.

just a rusted sigil

forgotten in the mud

surrounded by daisies now blooming

where his empire used to stand.

Author's Note

Thank you so much for reading and supporting my work with your reads, likes, and comments. It truly means the world. If you appreciate my work and would like to support me further my first book, Demortalizing, is available for pre-order purchase on my website! It is being self-published so every cent truly supports this blooming poet. Click HERE to check it out or copy and paste the link below.

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