Written by Anvi Joshi
When Hate abdicated the throne
So did rise beauty.
And it was not His face,
But His crowns
That inspired faith in the gentry.
The dripping jewels dipped down,
Enticed both the thieves and the weaker.
His scandal added to His weight
Of gold and silver metal.
If He had ever been kind
History would have shuddered,
For the world was already attracted,
Society been caught in love with its captor.
That was the day
The people started to sing.
Appraising they said,
“Long Live
our Holy King”.
The people gathered expectantly.
Shaking in fear,
Stumbling with honor
As each new victim knelt
In front of their lovely ruler.
His clothes seemed to change
With each judgement call,
But His face stayed the same
Unparalleled symmetry, unparalleled drama.
For the inside always stays constant
And the outside harbors the problems.
That was the day
The people screamed through their trauma,
As the heads of the guilty
Rolled on bloody marble.
Fearfully they said,
“Long Live
our Holy King”.
That powerful creature needed no sword
For He held the hands of the executioners,
Pitted the rich of Himself against the poorer.
He reminded them not everyone could be a ruler
For with every man who wished to kneel at His feet
To beg for a bit of the bauble and jewel
There was another who was in jail for deceit
But no treason can phase the most duplicitous ruler.
Those were the days
The people began to whisper
As He controlled the way they spoke
Made them talk and walk like ‘perfect’ boys and girls.
Carefully they said,
“Long Live
our Holy King”.
The grievances of His people were sins
Of peeling off sunspots like blemishes,
Turning away bronze for gold rings,
Scoffing at imperfections as if diseases.
Young admirers cut out their tongues because
The beauty of their King’s words put theirs to shame
For His castle was a breeding ground for insecurity.
Humanity’s humility withering
As the character of a man faded to obscurity.
And while His people bleed out envy,
Their vices held them captive
And He smiled with the death threat
of a ransom note
For He already had them.
That was the day
the people began to beg-weary
To their new Master.
Appeasingly they said,
“Long Live
our Holy King”.
Yesterday He sat upon a shimmering throne,
Ruling with an iron fist.
He dictated emotions the way He does His subjects,
Discriminated between the content and the dying,
But not the healthy pretty, and the pretty sick.
As corruption bled into the minds of the people
He wore His adoration like bracelets,
Humanity His crown jewel
And its vanity His prized possession.
Today will be the day
The people scrub at their mirrors,
Wipe away the false words
And hopefully tell themselves
They no longer need the deceitful,
Lips, or eyes, or lovers
To bow down to their terrible ruler.
And yet, even if it happens
The people hear the sound
Of someone off in the night
Screaming, wailing, singing, begging
Again.
“Long Live
our Holy King”.
Anvi Joshi is a 17 year old writer and poet from New Jersey and she's been honorably mentioned in the Scholastic Arts and Writing Contest for her poetry and her journalism. Her favorite author (and one of her biggest role models) is Maggie Stiefvater! You can read some more of her work on A Lack of Clarity.
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