Merovingian

-Merovingian-
by Keaton Foster


Clout
No doubt
Merovingian
Status
Opulence
Impudence
He sits
Upon his throne
Of glutinous shit
The dead
Murdered
By his hand
Lay all around
The living
Fingered
By his misgivings
Run around
Trying to please him
Every day they fail
After the night
And
Beyond his rage
They head back out
Only when the sun
Lends them escape
They search
And search
Ever eager to please
For them there is
Nothing
But his need
Further ignored
I scream
It’s pointless
He
Merovingian
Calls me his
Court jester
His one true madman
The only one
Who defies his rite
He laughs
Not because I’m funny
But rather
Because he’s insane
Sometimes I dance
Other times I sing
Sometimes I bring him
Would be victims
Other times
I myself am his victim
Ruling with an iron fist
Is his game
Killing just for the sake
Of doing it is his way
Clout
No doubt
Merovingian
Status
Opulence
Impudence
He sits
Upon his throne
Of glutinous shit
Ready to do what’s next
I try to distract him
I wish to alleviate
His burden of rule
His wickedness
Astute
He knows what
He understands how
Why he is doing
What he does
Is no mystery to him
He is quite certain
Merovingian
A ruler to be king
Of much weaker men
He is no victim
Only victimizer…


Merovingian
Written by Keaton Foster Copyright © 2014.