Poem: Investiture
A sword of Fate
befitting a ruler
but what if the choice
is rather blunted?
The shadow that lies
behind the throne
A whim from a
capricious God's hand?
A dark cloud
hangs over the castle
a rolling storm
threatens to break overhead.
Look past the pomp and circumstance
The royal robes and holy scepter
The king is no fool
but the jester's jokes are deadly.
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