Untitled (daily challenge)

I sit in a monarchical market

Watching common gestures go by

Drinking the words

Of a mute prophet

Wondering how he’ll die

Before my eyes

Dances a newly-born demise

And the fresh corpse

Of decay and sunrise

I sit there, thinking

What if I were a king?

What if I ruled on that land?

Will the madness ever end?

Is it disaster in the making?

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