Good morning, everyone. I hope you’ve all had a wonderful last couple weeks (especially without my writing cluttering up your feeds). Please enjoy the piece today! Without further ado…
Regicide
Painfully wrought
in chains of iron,
the things they’ve brought
of ash and ire.
I fall asleep
astride the clouds,
falling deep
into the crowds.
There is some meaning
to be gleaned
from things demeaning
and things uncleaned.
Unsafe again
inside my dreams.
There in the fen,
that fetid light gleams.
Perfect, porcelain, helmsman
who thought himself a vase,
pleasing, pristine, a madman
who thought himself in diapause.
One braggart
who swaggered
and told them all his plans.
Deserted now,
his many lands.
Poems by Sam 
I love when you “clutter” my inbox because that means you are learning and growing and getting better with each writing. This is a good one. Vivid imagery. Keep them coming! (No pressure)
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