The Two Kings

Exultantis.

I have served thy majesty for several days, and I have learned one thing–he is not worth the title.

Words are his swords, and his throne is his shield. With his weapons he commands; with his weapons he commands with apathy. He does not care about your time, nor your health. All he cares about are the diamonds in his pocket.

For him, time was never gold. He thinks that transactions can be rushed overnight. His imbecilic thinking led to numerous deaths of his counsels, comrades and henchmen. Now, those left of his servants all have doubts to stay; his loyal followers now regret that they ever stepped on the floor of his grand yet dark chateau.

Who is he to call himself king if he cannot protect the rights of his people? Who is he to call himself king?

I want to shout his name with anger, but I have something to protect. I guess no one will ever understand.

Libramentum.

His words have been filling my mind ever since he came, and it feels like I want to vomit the string in which he breathed life out of  his lungs. But no, that string is dear and innocent.

Perfection is what he looks for, but perfection does not exist in is flesh. He pretends to talk to fairies and elves, which is dreadful. Worse is how he entices the impotent to feed the hunger of his pullet and his cockerel.

He would brag about being great, but there is no greatness in him at all. His consort would cover his blemishes, even feed meat to crocodiles for them not to bother him. But he has no gratitude, for his pride and vanity are more important than anything else.

To mock is his leisure. He repeatedly says discouraging words to the population whom he does not categorize as slender; because that is what he does, he sorts out people.

I want to shout his name with anger, but I have something to protect. I guess no one will ever understand.

Published by P. X. V.

I am a black hole in love, sharing how colorful the universe is.

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