musings of a dying king.

A Poem by gnafla

would it have been better if i were a tyrant?
ruling with an iron hand,
complete with armies that marched under my banner,
and puppet councils that obeyed my every whim and desire?

maybe i shouldn't have had so many children,
but it isn't my fault, i didn't plan to have them.
they just happened,
by-products of evenings spent under velvet covers,
attempts to fill a void left by the passing of my partner...

sure, my kingdom is prosperous,
my people are happy.
but to whom do i leave my legacy?
the crown prince is a wastrel,
the second, disabled.
i can't leave my kingdom to the b******s,
they'll run it to the ground,
with their petty squabbles and fights,
to be honest, i think that they're all mentally unsound.

damn this withering body,
curse the eternal sleep,
my people need me,
but i guess mortality triumphs eventually...