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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”.

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