Not until his dead mind springs to life
The king slayer make s arrangements
Synchronising the orderly flow of sin
Venturing into unclean waters
Deciding the beginning of his end
Arranging a case of revenge
Ever ready to average
Executing plans as ranged
Cometh his ultimate fate and treacherous end

Yet!not until silence becomes eloquent does it volume increase
He has slopped over edges
With beads of sweat
Comes his greatest realisation
First a mere speculation
Then convictions were affirmed
Once a son of the soil
Now a murderer from the soil
Once a child with a blank slate,empty and ordinary
Now a man to face a state
Filled with the passion to face his adversaries

Yet,comes deep within him is a flow
From the river of guilt
Facing the bar of national logos with faith
To face his fate
In front of all
Indeed he was the Prince, now the kingslayer
Meant for the throne,now disowned
The kingslayer !




© Iyetiri Blessing