Friday, January 15, 2016

The Fallen Prince

The dribbling gold, 
From the pockets of a mongrel,
Street urchins gather,
Pray for the lost soul, 
Pray, does it matter.

The flying queen,
Fairy of the winter's tale,
I beckon, I wait, for your touch,
Do your deed, let me wither,
The flowers fade, the bells toll.

The chimes sing their song,
Winds my mate, as I float,
My ashes on the tender sheet,
I have fallen, the darkness my ally,
I have fallen, betrayed my fleet.

Despair of a lost soul,
I wait for my end to come,
Do come, cleanse me, free me,
My guilt my brother, 
Take me with you, to the sea.

I am the fallen prince, 
The king of my time, 
But a pauper at the death's gate.
Betrayal was my weapon, 
But alas, death tricked my fate.