The Pretender’s Reign
They crowned him king, for he spoke like thunder,
Promising gold and a realm torn asunder
From all its ills—yet the roar they’d hear
Was a hollow bray to tickle the ear.
His mane was stitched, his coat was dyed,
His wisdom borrowed, his courage lied;
But the people cheered, for the tale was sweet,
And truth is dull when lies taste neat.
He built his throne on sand and straw,
Wrapped every flaw in pomp and law;
Till time, that patient, prying hand,
Pulled seams apart across the land.
And there he stood, no lion’s grace,
Just long ears flapping in disgrace;
A lesson carved for all who see:
Not all who rule are what they seem to be.
No comments:
Post a Comment