The Old King

The Old King

A Poem by Sarr0
"

when writing this, I imagined an old king whos made many mistakes, sitting alone on his throne, in his empty castle.. then a quick and quiet death takes him, and hes ready for it.

"

Who, are you? who creeps at night,
near my ancient throne?


.. I see now.. your whispers avow,
a Shade of cloth and bone..


As your scythe scrapes the walls,
a near enchanting tone..


Because I know, my times well past.
and no where left to go..


I welcome thee with gracious hands,
so now my head, rolls on stone..


The halls of my, once great throne,
now grow dim and bleak..


nevermore, feeling daft. should all
great things effete?

© 2014 Sarr0


Author's Note

Sarr0
ignore grammar issues, like improper use of words. for some of these are words im not well acquainted with.
and please any suggestions or additions would be appreciated :)

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Reviews

*silence* o.o..guess that means I suck haha

Posted 9 Years Ago



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1 Review
Added on April 15, 2014
Last Updated on April 15, 2014
Tags: king, scythe, throne, accecptance

Author

Sarr0
Sarr0

Newark, DE