i suffer from low self esteem

hear ye! hear ye!

all courts and commoners

the king is dead!

spoken from the coroner

who saw him split

sawed, wide open

for a hint, a drop

of a curious poison

but nigh, there was not one

nor a stab wound, nor a sign of

struggle, not a touched hair on his head

only an abnormally sized heart

a vestige, well less than a heart

grotesquely large, ripping at his

ribcages, tearing him apart

well before our morgue doctor could

the king with the heart has died,

cold, unseen, utterly completely unloved

the king who stood tall is gone,

though his people never saw him

hear ye! hear ye!

blessed be the heart that killed him

the king is dead!

why don't you listen?