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How the King Was Eclipsed

Just need the proper sacrifice

By Andrew C McDonaldPublished 3 years ago • 1 min read
How the King Was Eclipsed
Photo by Jonathan Kemper on Unsplash

In the castle knights gathered

Tending steeds tired, lathered

When a most peculiar sight ‘twas beheld

Had triumphant soldiery actually failed?

In countryside and villages

Even hordes ceased their pillages

Peasants gawked at the clouds

Dropping the yokes and their plows

Forgetting about bailing hay

As above, old Sol turned away

Blackness crept over bright day star

Creeping near edge to far

A hush fell over the world

Prayers and insults were hurled

At a deity so obviously pissed

Monks wonder, what have we missed?

‘Twas dark in the light

Populace had a fright

Sun black midday, right?!

It’s a sign from above

Start to panic, grovel, shove

Our God us no longer love

Doom shall follow

Our fate so hollow

Cry, scream, weep, wail

We beg reprieve, we’ll not again fail

Lovers grabbed their men or ladies

Intent to screw a’fore meeting Hades

Haters threw rocks and jabbed with pitchforks

Inflicting agony with whatever works

Many just huddled, crying, gnashing teeth

Just one more chance for us here neath

Upon his throne King sat with heavy crown

Upon his face the Royal frown

As a mob stormed the castle gates

Certain He was the cause of their fates

Knights scrambled to and fro

Armor clanking, swords aglow

Torches were lit at noon

Their fiery ambient light a great boon

Thatch roofs were set ablaze

Smoke shrouded village in shimmery haze

Bodies littered cobbled street

For carters to dispose of like rancid meat

Doors to throne room boomed, shook, cracked

As log rams were applied, now he’s fracked

Roaring mob of ignorant peasants

Brought Royal Justice most unpleasant

When upon highest rampart of castle

Kingly head adorned spike next to his vassal

Light peeped forth to end this hassle

Stones ceased to fly

No one else need this day die

Dropping to knees populace shouted thanks

Knights, lords, ladies closed up ranks

All certain that ‘twas death of old mad king

Made hallelujahs once more ring

Obviously t’was his fault you see

They proclaimed on blended knee

For once more sun shines in heaven above

One must sometimes murder a king to regain God’s love

vintagehumorsocial commentarysurreal poetry

About the Creator

Andrew C McDonald

Andrew McDonald was a 911 dispatcher for 30 yrs with a B.S. in Math (1985). He served as an Army officer 1985 to 1992, honorably exiting a captain.

Never mind. I give up.

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    Written by Andrew C McDonald