The Reluctant Prince
This is a given title poem that echoes the price of power. The imagery is very similar to all of the Game of Thrones scenes... maybe.
Now feature in my new self published collection: Growing up Really F***s-Up Fairytales on Amazon!
The Reluctant Prince
broken bodies lay
battered around the
stone rooms of
a carpeted castle
no sounds or breath
no choking gasps of
life shudder through
those husks
a wooden chair tilts
against the wall,
the surface worn down
memories of feasts
death surrounds her,
faces, familiar ghosts
silenced laughter, frozen
tears, a crippling crown
slopes across her brow
red, stained, hands
tattered, silk, dress
what Prince would
want this?