'The Lonely King'

With a mocking smile and a weary sigh,
He polishes his blade and keeps the dull edge high.

Memories of battles, victories he’s paid,
A king in his castle, with his power displayed.

He sits on his throne, staring at the empty hall,
Only the servants know the steps that echo, small.

He raises the walls, the windows reach wide,
But what seems grand outside holds nothing inside.

Fleeing the fears that keep him confined,
In his empty castle, by ghosts, he’s entwined.

The lonely king weeps, though his tears don’t show
Counting the days till he’s laid low.

_db.

#thelonelyking #ego #pride #selfishness