Monday, 23 May 2011

Swiftly through the flourishing confetti
Bellowing sounds made by trumpets
A soldier dared to march
The crowd saw him
The saturnine amongst the colours

Up he went
And with whimpering shriek
Stabbed the king
A royal the king was
But a king the royal was not
Took the throne
As a scarecrow
Alive to the avian creatures
Not to a real man

Fort and battlements did not help
And red coloured the day black
And the soldier marched on

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