The Regent

The king left on a grand crusade,
A campaign ‘gainst that dragon or this demon,
I’m his regent,
His steward,
I was to warm this volcanic throne,
Until his triumphant return,

Yet the kingdom rots without him,
As if its lifeblood has been drained,
The peasants grow skeletal and despondent,
The very earthen foundations of our nation crumble,
Our royal academia lectures only madness now,
Our lone remaining knight now rides a pale horse,

Look yonder to the fields under my reign,
And see that they are barren,
As if a royal magic is dispelled,
This charge seems a curse,
He bade me this unwanted duty,
The crown mocks me from its waiting pedestal.