The Head that Wears the Crown

At last, I understand:
this golden-glittering halo
dominates my destiny
just as I rule the land.

White marches red out the door,
a parade of mops
my unworthy tribute
to the kneeling jester
finally humbled before
my empty throne.

I command him, rise:
even in death, he defies.

The golden crown
bounces off walls,
lays to rest in shadow,
mocking: oh, foolish king.

The thirst for justice demands
war with the soul of the king.





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