The Throne

The Throne

Looking past the crowd of clergymen and royals, 

Who look at me while I sit on the throne,

Wondering of what the future beholds, 

The gaze of a million looking past the soul of the person who sits on the throne. 

The throne that is placed in the courtyard, 

Looks past the extent of its rule, 

With a history as glorious and rich,

Trying to maintain the aspirations of a million that are governed by it.

A family that not only governs the weak, 

But protects it from the invaders that come bearing swords and bombs,

From a ground full of turmoil did the king drive the nation away from,
Bring in not only the fortunes and laurels of bravery but a heritage for it's successors to pass.

A country that has been tied together by the blood and sweat,

Of people who stood guard at the ports and the grounds of the royal kingdom,

But then did a great war come, 

Shaking the very foundations of the countries near the kingdom.

After a gruelling battle that I had administered,

A country that was changing,

Since the havoc of my brother's abdication,

To the crisis that world had witnessed.

I stood there looking past the ground, 

Towards the farthest end of the land, 

With a drift of the cigarette that I smoke,
I sleep for a time that I now deserve without the weight of crown and sceptre.

With my daughter now walking down the abbey,

Being watched from kings who now grace their thrones in heaven,

Readying her shoulder for the burden of the duty that now awaits her,

I walk along by her side invisible to her sight.

She sits on the throne which I once graced,

Taking the solemn oath that I had taken,

With she being anointed by the holy oil on her hands, chest and head,

I see the weight of the country that she now wears with pride.

My soul now ready to grace a throne,

Kept vacant in the land of the dead,
I sit with my peers and friends,

Watching the new queen from the skies above.