beauty, culture, emotion, film, grief, inspiration, love, music, poetry

The Goblin King Returns

He opened his eyes
to a ragged
Chorus of cheers
All his subjects
Looked upon him
Their ugliness alleviated
By their love for him
Still beautiful
And with each breath
Restored
‘Your highness’
‘Welcome home, we’ve
Missed you during your
Time above’
He smiles, how to explain
The mark he made
On so many mortals
Words are too inconstant
So he asks for a
Guitar
Fingers against the frets
And so he
Sings

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