Babylon - 2012/05/19

Court is each day at the stroke of noon
While a few vagrants look on and wonder
Will a conclusion to this come too soon
Before a sane world can see the blunder

The kings forest maintains no more game
The queens nursery has wraiths of dread
As they have no living subjects to rule
Due to wars they wage within their head

They are blubbering and outright insane
Their progenies dancing on needle heads
Pretending to instruct all those lessor
While crafting monsters under warm beds

These majesties of kingdoms gone rancid
Squandered real glee without any regret
Now study a life born of manicured rage
They refuse to grant us leave to forget

Royal commands reduced to crass dribble
Are simply words strung without meaning
In a belief that their power is peaking
Ignoring how far the towers are leaning

Shall there be bedlam when they crumble
Only the return of a long belated peace
As they are the trespasser and squatter
Lacking the power to enact true release

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