Death of an Elegant Man
A little poem I wrote for fun, Originally it was meant to be funny but my mind went dark.
Death of an Elegant Man
By Rhyne Hentzel
Three Bells toll chimed from their Cathedrallion perch
The Gallows creaked that day with their decaying timber
The Plaza was filled to the brim of the cries of the poor
The masses scream for justice as you strutted upon those streets
They said "Off with his head!" hoping for an exhibition and execution
I remember your final steps as you strolled in your Sunday's finest
Proudly climbing those shoddy stairs that marked your end
You constantly claimed to be a man of the people til your last breath
The smile you wore that day was yet the best amongst the rest of the royal crest
I even saw the Reaper wish a kind gest with the rope wrapped around your neck
Your final words were well said "Tonight, I dine with Lucifer and his guests!"
It was delightful view to a friendly face lest to bring gloom to an already grim day
I believe it rained that afternoon as I saw the full moon in the eve
It was beautiful night despite the plebeians' plight in a desperate fight
Strange was it to hear them plunder your palace that was in a placid state
I will miss your wonderful celebrations held in the Moonlight of your garden
The Mysterious Masquerades we shared in the parlor without any squalor
The Bountiful Balls we held in the Great Hall with the calls of our praised names
The games our children played in the Galley while gallivanting amongst the greats
I remembered the times your chateau was so filled with chitterous chatter
You understood to be a man of the people was knowing that they will bring his Scythe
You knew that your estate wouldn't be safe albeit you would've wanted it this way
They teared away at the Tapestries as tender for your kin's vile tendencies
They warred for your wardrobes to clothe the kindred of their kind
I pine for hope of seeing the light you imagined all those times watching fireflies
I lament that your life was written off like a musician's final sonnet
You sang to the songbirds of your sins to repent for your regrets
Yet I feel as if God has won a bet that was set in his favor the moment you wavered
A game of chess was played with you in the role of holy pawn
A maneuver that set you apart from Satan's spawn when you donned their ways
It was the toll you paid to gain their graces in your gaudy facade
You even wore a mask to avoid basking in their caste's crass cavorting
I found it was rather sporting to see all of them snortingly laugh akin to the boars
The Humor they spoke was a joke in itself often stuck in a rote
I leave this final note I wrote in retort to your divorce
I pray for you as you adjourn to the highest authority's court