The King Is Dead
The king is dead I cry.
The truth of life is here.
Immortal words in mortal guise and never give an ear.
He died last night they say.
Last century too soon.
If hope is all Pandora left then boxer be the moon.
The unheard do not cry.
The unseen never light.
If every planted seed did bloom then tangled be the night.
Each planted care.
Each worried foe.
Each little spark begins to glow.
Each hidden gift
resides inside.
So sad, so sad the king has died.
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