A Naked King

Father, he
asked me once
if I wanted

his throne, his
crown, or his
position.

I, being
but a child
Of seven,
said “Neither!”

And what a fool I was!
For that word
I received
20
L
a
s
h
i
n
g
s

At the tender age of 7,
I knew!
I wanted to train with the knights–
I knew.
I wanted to read with the scholars–
I knew,
I wanted to compose with the bards–
and —
I knew
that at no cost
did I want the chains of royalty

But of course, fate is a fickle mistress
No man can woo,
Let alone a prince.
And so,
My father
perished.
Leaving me,
age 15,
to take over his mantle:
the mantle of the greatest kings of the century.

I am a reluctant king,
not worth any gold.
A naked king,
no bite for all he is bold.
A bare king —
for which no stories shall be told.

Is this really what fate had in store for me?
Did father not hear me?

I ask, as kingdoms declare war on mine.
I ask, as my knights are beheaded.
I ask, as I carry out punishment to innocents.
I ask at my father’s grave.
I ask, as death permeates the air with —
Hunger.
Thirst.
Violence!
Screams, screams, wails, shouts, cries,
help —
In my dreams,
I don’t sleep anymore;
It is too much trouble
When my kingdom is falling.

Is this how I die?

I ask, shouting,
Voice hoarse, I
Throw my

Crown

Onto
The floor, and
I run out of
My throne room.

Not to be seen for years.
Maybe centuries.
Maybe I will die.
Maybe I won’t.
Do I care?
Does it serve me any use?
I ask-
To the empty air.
To the forest vines.
To the ocean sea.
To the muddy ground.
To the vibrant leaves.
To the yellow sun.
To the white castle
far away in the distance.

“Let fate have her way with you,”
They seem to say.
Everyone seems to say
since birth.

I am a naked king- no, just-
a king.
Forgotten to time.
As all must be.