Thief in the Castle
You may be living in a castle
But you’ll always be a thief
Pickpocketing off the pockets you’ve filled
Swiping the gold chalice off the shelf
It was bought for you, but engraved for someone else
A royal table set before you, and you stuff the appetizers in your socks
In this world there’s loneliness so great, you can see it in the slow movement of a clock
You project ill intentions on the household staff
Can’t seem to console the gap between what you have and what you deserve
Wary on all accounts
You walk around wearing second hand crowns
Thinking second hand thoughts
Battles second hand fought
Studying monuments built on foundational rot
Fashioned of silver, anointed in oils
You step on fine work, and rest where they toiled
You sleep on rocks draped in silk sheets
Staring at a low hanging chandelier that always appears to be falling
Lower and lower you go
Closer and closer it gets
Is it an optic trick, a sanity test?
Emptying the pockets at last
In a canopy bed
You feast on today’s spoils
When you’re young, blood boils
Now it runs dry
You spend a few hours, attempting to cry
At last, a single tear stains the silk sheets
When you’re in the ground,
Your soul’s the only thing you’ll get to keep
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