Sunday, September 2, 2012

melt their crowns

kings should melt their crowns
and offer you the profits,
your beauty is such.
one thousand slaves ought be at your
every beck and call
and the skies
ought timidly propose
with stars as diamonds,
skylight solitaires to adorn your fingers every day
for the rest of your life.

it would be a true travesty to learn
that you are not aware of the light
that burns within you,
a lantern aglow,
your good heart --
or that no one has ever told you so.

if not, heed this:
i think you are exquisite
and perhaps it's not fair
to raise you up on my pedestal
at world's display
while everyone else looks on, neglected,
but if you even knew of your magnificence
you would not scold me
for being rash and partial.

i'm ever grateful
that i found you among thieves
but caught you Robin Hood-ing instead;
and perhaps you're thought unholy
by vagabonds and liars --
oh, it can't happen here
in my distinct line of sight.

it's rather agonizing
to think at long last
how good you are.
it's painful, how your thoughts
are never with yourself.
all i can ever pray for the world
is that your spirit
into the millions
would be reason enough
to not ever go to war.

and were the world mine
you'd rule
after all other regimes
had done as i requested
and yielded to you,
making every effort to melt their crowns
in the process,
attempting to add some sort of afterthought
to someone already filled to the brim with worth.


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