Challenges Smouldering – a poem

And for all those challenges issued there lie

Too many more to count, lords in their high towers

With robes stinking purple from riches defy

The word spread by meek mouths, soon changed

To the spread of gums slashed by broken teeth.


The royalty of olden days has come to this time

To die, so many who should have stayed there,

Where the master sent them long ago, in moods

Whose source ever lay unknown to us, loyal children

In infernal matrimony, trapped and yet willing.



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