Bow To the King
Bow to the King
We Robot, she was skin
Great King once sought
I know naught
What lies within
A fly buzzed in
Hear him, blue-bottle
Rancid pain, she did throttle
She hath no sin
The great creeping shadows
Fall upon the walls
She goes numb, when pain calls
Lurks she now in placid meadows
Dew on brow, Youth eternal
We chant the dirge—we sing the hymnal
Copyright © Toni Orban | Year Posted 2015
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