“King George Philip”
It’s not a tale, not a fact
But a morsel of realism.
‘King Philip’ strangled,
In a girdle of flowers.
The ‘great’ can break through,
But abashed, he might
Wreck those Rhododendrons.
The clime was never cold,
Guess the only dew was his
tears.
Kings Anatomy, neither heart
nor brain
But his principles, his
conviction.
An another breathing shared
those walls.
The Anubis , a snake, a crow
A messenger from the limbo
The alliance between those
lives
Boiled in raw frost,
unadulterated venom
The King laid still, while
vulture starved
It nipped the King from his
bosom
A mere sting couldn't tremble
him.
Decades passed, and the King
dissolved.
But his fundamentals
immortalised
With the tears, the dew.
As Rhododendrons were
poisoned
The King was acute,
Once again, Anubis couldn't triumph.
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