Poets logo

The Bone King

I Sawolhord the Thin

By Octovo Libra Published 2 years ago Updated 2 years ago 2 min read
The Bone King
Photo by Mike Cottam on Unsplash

I am king of bones, I sawolhord, so scorned

Crowned without the flesh of gold

And blood seeping from my pores,

My temples haloed a barbarous crown of thorn,

My sister lands without a christen to hold,

Are punished by savages on her shores,

And my cousins have blasted and broken the horn,

But I am king of bones, I am sawolhord, so thin of a thing,

I had nothing to feed myself, nor the land I lord,

And my heir, Deorlic, emboldened with honor and gold he hoard,

And his once bravery he has sold in the eyes of gold,

Those passions and him I time again adjourned,

And from my battlements and the tower, it’s throat gorged

With peasants rising temptation to rule something, had stormed,

And from my kingdom the sin of greed was born;

I am still their Sawolhord, how hungry can they be

For my pound of flesh, they crawling claw

And tug at my name and golden virtue gnaw

And it seem like a ham at the bone they eat

I Sawolhord, had turned to meat,

And those savages have lost their law;

I closed it off, and burned the bridge

And lit a fire and downcast turn ,

The tower chimney the dredge,

And watch from the ledge as the pyre churn

And the ashes of those people and the temptations had fled,

And I sat upon the tower, my Throne of bones and smelted stone,

And Luftymea in my breast, a fork to her crux,

Her sultry nature on the plate of drux

And wife eternal of the ethereal tone

With blood to her crown, but in death again the vows said,

And thinning king, I sawolhord, so toremented

So hungry, so alone, with a silly daydream

That I sat in gold and my kingdom in full ream

Turned to bone, with the trance of smoke whir

That filled the air, and jaundice the ether

And my ashes, the ashes of, I Sawolhord, the king

Have rested on the sand where the savages

Have taken the land, with our heavenless bodies bring

As ceremony and danced in a promethean fire

Their bodies dressed with our bones

And mine seasoned in the fire, blaze gold with desire

And a savage on the throne,

Fat, and full, squat on my bones

surreal poetry

About the Creator

Octovo Libra

Instagram: @libracymbaspoems

Twitter : @libracymbalspoems

And my poetry Hell Is Like A Dog Kennel and other poems

Enjoyed the story?
Support the Creator.

Subscribe for free to receive all their stories in your feed. You could also pledge your support or give them a one-off tip, letting them know you appreciate their work.

Subscribe For Free

Reader insights

Be the first to share your insights about this piece.

How does it work?

Add your insights

Comments

There are no comments for this story

Be the first to respond and start the conversation.

    Octovo Libra Written by Octovo Libra

    Find us on social media

    Miscellaneous links

    • Explore
    • Contact
    • Privacy Policy
    • Terms of Use
    • Support

    © 2024 Creatd, Inc. All Rights Reserved.