THE DARK KING

 

The Dark king rises that’s the story right?

It’s a tale I was once told.

A fable as old as Grandmother Harriet.

You know she said she’s met him once?

Well, the story goes like this.

Once there was a cold-hearted man who was made king,

He ruled with an iron fist but his kingdom prospered.

Everyone was treated proper,

And there was always enough to eat. 

Nobody liked this king though.

They said he was mean, cruel, and various other things.

So they all decided to kill him.

They gathered a band of rogues, a few pitchforks, even lit some torches.

It was fun and interesting this story at that time.

I was thrilled that the cold-hearted king would soon be killed.

And alas he fell.

Without a fuss he handed himself over to the rogues.

They hit him, hurt him, some even burnt him.

But silently he went with them.

They executed him, and a new king rose.

The kingdom was still as peaceful as ever.

Now isn’t that a nice story?

You’re confused, aren’t you?

I felt the same way too and it burdened me.

I thought to myself,

This makes no sense?

If this was how the story went the dark king was very nice,

And the people ungrateful.

But you know, now I miss not being able to understand this story.

I miss feeling like the world was an interesting place.

Well, it’s all good though.

Because the story of the dark king was simply fabricated so you’d speak to me.