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By coujeaux Date: 2003 Mar 05 Comment on this Work [[2003.03.05.22.42.23588]] |
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Once he ruled the far land; sufficient earth under command to paint the evening sky. Vain enough to take back dusky orange and black from a thieving monarch butterfly. Such is the province of a ruler, to dictate his whim as the will of all things he surveys, To sit from the throne and wave your hand in wisdom; well, at least in royal displays. But there was something troubling the King this particular day he refused to disclose, And whispers ran throughout the territory as to what might be causing his regal woes. In hope of advancing their personal states, every mystic known came to offer a cure, Everything from latest innovations in medieval panacea to most alchemically obscure. They examined mighty eyes, tapped leadership knees, chanting as if they were mad; But the causative agent of their lord's affliction confounded what incantation they had. Finally, surrender crossed the mind of the regent, something never considered in war, Just as he was to give way a maiden humble as his temperament came upon his door. She curtsied before him respectfully, saying she wished to have a last chance to heal, His exhaustion from attempted restoration said no, but he relented and offered a deal. Solve his dilemma and he would make her wealthy beyond imagination, even a queen, Accepting his offer readily, she shuffled towards him for something heretofore unseen. All of a sudden his sceptre arose as never before, blue-blooded and pointed yon high, Proof that power behind the throne is nice, but purple presented publicly gets you by. |