As soon as the king of Middle Earth,
Glassy eyed, mere steps to death,
Began deriding the lesser dragon
I mumbled under my breath: Fool!

That fire is endless!
It's fueled by stolen gold that flows
In liquid rivulets from far and near
Like dew on a night web

To satiate their appetite for fear.
For humans multiply like vermin
While imaginary monsters
Breed slowly in vats of hate.

My sword is broken, my crest
Torn into its flowery quarters
And scattered among thieves.
My honour laughed at by fate.

So my fantasy world sings.
It whispers lies, I know, but I bite.
Unlike the stubborn king, I salute
The one that chose in a hurry

To avert spilling the people's blood,
Trading legacy, stature and rule
For an alternate reality
In which hope feeds on history.

Jam25