Relieve
This awful person
From the throne
On which
He reigns

For a chance
To find forgiveness
That redeems
What hurt
He’s caused

As the prince
Of feeling numb
By threat
Of failed
Existence

Upon learning
Kingdoms suffer
When fear
Is his sole
Belief

And rage
That golden rule
Among laws
Which startle
Greatly

Those souls
Who need assistance
To defy
Such vile
Faiths

Like death
His only truth
Where pain
Is still
Insistent

Each symptom
Bears one answer
For questions
He can’t
Face

But assume
His aging role
Is the means
Of finding
Purpose

To gain control
Of waiting
Each day
With final
Breaths

At a castle
Standing still
Between hell
And heaven’s
Illness

Called secrets
So repugnant
Our lives
May never
Learn

How monarchs
Choose their fate
By twist
Of using
Hatred

As leverage
In all conquest
Against
What God
They rage –

Barely
Seeing why
Or agreeing
Time
Is sacred

Before falling
Deep toward slumber
Eternal
As their
Rest,

Golden
Though condemned
Like his
With poorest
Spirit

And heart
So purely hardened
As coins
Which never
Bend

Demanding
Easy reasons
For the gamble
He must
Wager

Facing
Daily judgement
Since proven
To be
Wrong.

– J. Pigno