Mesmerized:
by the precious gems, and jingles;
of my crown.
Many of you, raised brows and frowned.
You might be:
counting the stars of my sky, shining, much above; your ever did.
Agony of non- fulfilment might have caused:
you, bemoaning of theft.
And,
Less adamant you might be,
knowing:
Thorns in my crown
Those sleepless night, of countless efforts;
I made.
Eyes swollen, hand shivering;
body crying, “rest in need! “.
Dare I avoid!
Those Bating down.
I made those stars: glittery;
Brushing: time and time.
When you were resting, I at quest.
I choose those jwels from mine of bravest:
With armour of will, passion and writ.
Look the mockery of time,
Yet you question thorns of crown!
I adore it, from the day; I was born.
Blessed was I: to have the God.
To have mercy, to show a path.
Loved I was, it worked out, fruited sweet with dozens light.
But,
Here you go, doubting my sword!
I challange!
Wear your bestest, carry your sharpest;
Hold your shoulder tight!
Fight,
Have these scorns!
If you win,
You can own :
“This bleeding crown”.