The sick King – K.B

  The sick King

 

 

The royal doors are closed.
Inside the dark room,
Curtains are closed.
Ladies and gents
Have to wait outside.
There are no parties
Anymore, some
Go to church.
Doctors are coming
And going,
There is no music.
Some are already
Conspiring on
The basis
Of conjectures.
Little did they
Know that the
King is fully awake,
Fighting his disease
And putting his council
To the test.
Even in bed
And weak,
He’s majestic.
He still gives
Commands
To rule
The kingdom,
Attacked
On its borders
Since the news
Spread.

In a fine
Morning,
He stood in his
Bed.
He sweat
All night long
With dreams.
He needed to
Take the sweat
Off,
But somehow
He felt apeased.
The sickness had gone.
He decided to disguise
Himself as a beggar
And run through
The palace
Full of adorators
To pick up
What was being
Said and done.
He knew that
His weak heart
Would suffer
From it
So he got mentally
Prepared to hear
Insanities.
But he was also
Hoping
To meet his true
Loyal servants
Without
Being recognized.

Prepare thyself
For eternity
Were his last words.
All the food
And the drinks
Are a waste
Of time,
The heart
Must remain
Young,
Clear
And vigorous.

Prepare thyself
For eternity
Were his last
Words.
Make of every
Minute
An ode to what’s
Beyond.
Make of
Every second
An arrow of
Desire
Heated
By the soul.

In matters
Of religion,
Don’t trust
Anyone,
Follow
Your own
Path.

In matters
Of marriage,
You are not
Bound
To do it.
If you search
For desire,
Consume it.
But bear in
Mind
That the future
Of mankind
Is in your little
Hands,
Don’t get
Diistracted,
Don’t try
To fill the void
With what frustrates
You.
Look for simple
Pleasures
And plenitude.

 

 

K.B

 
All rights reserved.2018

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