Lord Rottenham

Once a rich King, now a pauper.

Lord Rottenham

 

 

Lord Rottenham an insidiously ruthless ruler,

Bandying atrociously within his stony castle,

With his devious iron-clad hand and sceptre,

Conquered a kingdom a scorn vicious jackal.

 

Squandered ye wretched commoner pouches,

Thy bellowed crassly for a sacrificial new tax,

Or compliment a ravenous dungeon of misery,

Chain incarceration sufferings upon thy racks.

 

If ye encroach and announce utter lewdness,

Prank refined ordained chambers of thy lord,

A tempering bed of spikes shall ornament ye,

Thy loyal henchman shackles ye to the board.

 

If ye betters yield oddly a souring rabble tone,

I summon in attendance a henchman masked,

His unbounded thirsty-whips ye be drenched,

I commend thou hastened agony quest tasked.

 

To quell thy insatiable king’s horrible hungers,

A nimble ransacking gold-coffers will increase,

Sequestering thy disciples in the valley below,

Shabby prospering commoners shall decrease.

 

One seething declaration onto a paper written,

Thwarting of every penny thy minions earned,

Ghastly attained off meagre backs hast stolen,

Debauching of their lavish freedoms governed.

 

Looming are revolutionary chaos woes yonder,

Thy incensed subjects table the hideous choice,

Embattle to a sullen engagement of sufferance,

Thousands of ye heart’s beckoned in one voice.

 

A crowned ruler hast squandered in ill disgrace,

Thy commenced wealth from sickle sore hands,

Ransacked liberties thy no longer hast bequeath,

Amidst loathsome corrupted financial demands.

 

Whom doth trample stormy thy royal chamber?

Trudge-not thy handsome sanctimonious place.

Why do thou straw pallets splendour offend ye?

Contemplate thy gallant silky robe in disgrace?

 

Ye contentious pitchforks amassed contending.

Thy drawbridge must boast shockingly drawn!

Ye attempts the thievery of thy kingdom’s gold!

Treachery and unrest dwelled grievously upon.

 

Daggered tongues doth strained thy royal heart,

Ye tattered vagabonds are bustling in one mass,

Scowling jeers hast clambered on granite walls,

Thy batten wealthy hips are wilfully beaten alas.

 

Had thy amended of thy flamboyant greediness,

Thy doth be a chivalrous soothsayer ruler today,

With thy damsel queen adorning thy royal side,

By avoiding covertly the insurrection swordplay.

 

A grand victory casts over thy bountiful throne,

A pauper afoot in thy kingdom’s forfeited land,

Groans adrift a servant of thy relentless hunger,

Forbidden entry in thy home whist I’m banned.

 

 

Dec-9-2012 by Quilled_Penman©Glen King

 

 

 

 

Reviews

[CHRIS ANDES]

this is like a classical poem
..an elite piece
:)

[Quilled_Penman]

Thank you for the comment in my "psycho poetry experiment!

[Quilled_Penman]

I'll return when I get over this flu. ;))