Born a Prince, I was guided and groomed by the Alimighty (to be a King).
Mentored, thrown into the thorns until through and through I was thickened- and taught to triumph.
No doubt, I was tailor made for the throne.
Golden Skin with silver eyelashes, the tears I shed are diamonds, too worthy to be wasted for anyone.
Their wealth and weight makes me work, climb, build, rise,
Cascading in waves across my back, treasures.
You are in drought and you see that I stand above all.
(there wont be no more kings...not after me).
I bathe in the emeralds and saphires of your very foundation and exsistence, your clouds of self doubt are the silk cloth that drapes about me and dries me from the riches. I whisper-
And you cling on to the oil that drips from my lips, the deepest color of power that fuels greed. desire. hunger.
Yet in my hour of need your silence screamed louder than Thunder- "I'm letting you fall... Under."
But that will happen no longer. (is what I'd like to say).
But in reality, not even the shifting of the cosmos or the colliding of continents could ever make me look away.
And my weakness grows until it growls at the colesseums of confidence and chases the chariots containing my constantly screaming desires, never changing, as I desperately drink glistening drops from the holy grail in a Last Grand Attempt to remain
My castles crumble,
Unable to control the massive capacity created within them.
Through all the Floods and the Thunder
No doubt, royalty without its loyalty was meant for me.
Did you Doubt?
That even in my distress, nothing less than the Princess who wears the less than nothing crown,
Destined for me.
(but one day they'll see).