| The early morning castle stirred
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| The King of the forest stared vacantly
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| Toward the east
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| His bloodshot eyes caught no reasoning
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| A lazy fly landed on his suit of velvet
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| And he cursed the creator
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| Like an unwanted shadow
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| The Queen of conscience entered the already broken morning
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| She spoke, «Eat my master»
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| The king moved to a coffin corner
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| Where another lazy fly contemplated the dust of time
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| «Bring me a kingdom and I will eat,»
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| His voice disturbed the dust and the fly
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| «I am without power to bring you power,»
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| The Queen sighed like an autumn breeze
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| «Then I will not eat.»
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| The King moved to his guilty throne
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| And seated himself among his ancestors
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| «My King, if you want respect and admiration
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| If you want a kingdom and power
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| If you want money and love, if you want respect and admitation
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| Then you must go out, and you must take it.»
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| The King stared vacantly to the east
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| And a dozen flies waiting in the dust stared back
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| «I am the King, it is not my part to capture and claim
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| It is my people’s duty,»
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| The Queen cried and the little crystal tears tickled her cheeks
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| She brushed them away angrily
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| «You have no people, and while you remain the ghost of the past
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| You will never have people or a kingdom,»
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| She ran from the patchetic chamber
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| A fly left with him
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| The king breathed and though deeply
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| «I will have people,» he said nervously to his conscience
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| «I will have people.»
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| The King of the forest never rose again from his guilty throne
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| And the dust and the lazy flies lived on him
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| And the King lived on his dreams
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| And died on them |