The Usurper

January 19, 2010

The goodly crown, of sparkly coals and chalk,
the precious royal robe of woolen cage
the strongly staff, a crooked, mangled stalk,
confess my noble, kingly heritage.

My kingdom lies across the vastly space
of infinitely homogeneous,
yet infinitely small and tiny place,
my universe, myself, and I – the ‘us’.

In here, I fully exercise my will.
Dominion over every single being,
for it consists of Me, and nothing else
but distant echos of Another Dream.

But here You are. You crack my crown, and burn
the wool, and smash my staff in scattered bits
Your violence overthrows my heart and turns
my wants and wars it ‘gainst my very wit.

How long will usurpers be led to stray,
before the jealous Love take hold and sway?
The King is near, and nearer everyday,
so come, lest in yourself you’re locked away.

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