King of Sighs
The king of sighs
crossed the milky
smooth crystal river,
with moon reflecting
from her creamy face.
Dreams of germination
pass between seed to
stand tall one day to shade
his noble, majestic path.
Stars, low, bright and
dusty, sing and mingle
with the yawning moonlight.
It's a new spectral dawning,
diamonds strewn across the sky.
Rainbows rise up like aurora,
and the king sits down to cry.
The river has stolen his lover,
seems his soul's swollen from a bee sting.
He sits and cries, this king of sighs.
Now he's the king of nothing.
Copyright © Red Barchettadrive | Year Posted 2015
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