We both walk…
We both breathe…
to you I am dead
to I there is no need…
you stand tall, brilliant and red-
but to you I don’t matter for I am dead.
you sit high strung kind on your throne,
all you loyal peasants like dog with bone.
a glare and they laugh.
oppose they sing.
at your feet they feed-above everything.
I could have a remedy, a potion a cure.
I could have a reason to better you from your lure.
I could be the person from so high you couldn’t see…
but to you I am dead,
and to I no need…
You can masquerade ’til the end.
take amusement in your plight-
and leave me like a bad omen
to feed in the night….
I’m not listed in your kingdom,
for I refuse to pay a mortal praise!
But I unlike any of them loved you
even with all your ways.
we both write…
we both sing…
we will both die empty among everything.
©copyright Kyanna Kitt
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