The One-Eyed King

The death knell, ringing requiem bell, a saddening sound, archways they pass, tears flood the mass, deep and deathly profound. Of what we know, strange seeds we sow, returning to us with a taunt a tree of poisonous root, bares similar fruit, wrinkled, pus filled and gaunt. Lessons to learn for the freedom we yearn, paid for in blood and gold, lounge in the chateau covered with shadow, and wait for the truth to unfold. For we all have plight it doesn't make it right, to wallow, fester and judge, waste deep in sewage when the torrent deluge, rushes in thicker than sludge. Clumped altogether for worse or better, seeking the price of the unknown, soaring in flight then catching the sight, of the one-eyed King on the throne.