When the bitter cold envelopes the land
When the frost stays on the branch
The king of filth will feign sorrow
Claiming a great loss
No truth is in this monstrosity
As he first rends his garments in grief
Then beats his chest in anger
Vowing to have his revenge
The queen of whores will fall silent
She will regret what she has done
She opened the door to a monster
That will devour her, slowly -- bit by bit
The city will be lighted in celebration
When the season for giving arrives
But the king of filth has nothing to give
For he is a taker of things and people
The filthy king will stare unblinking into the magic box
He hopes to find answers but the box is silent
Noisily he tears through the forest
Stalking the elusive prophetess
The prince who escaped in the summer heat rejoices
He is beloved and will be a great king
Despite his humble and hard beginning
Because the prophetess protects him
© 2013 H Maria Perry
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