boy king.
the word drips with scorn
whispered from their pale, bloodless lips
they all hiss, specters clawing at his midnight curls and
scratching at the constellations in his cheeks,
look at what you have done to us.
boy king,
you have failed at playing king you have failed at
being an adult you have failed your people you have
failed because you pretended to be someone you
are not and caused everyone
oh so much pain in the process.
boy king,
do you not see the red spilling
from your mouth as you command your troops
do you not see the crumbling ruins and
faceless skeletons that were once people
you leave in your wake?
boy king,
there have been others like you before
in the history of mankind,
other boy kings who were given a mighty power
too young and it left them gasping
reeling with the shock of it all the burden settled heavily
it nearly crushed their mortal shoulders --
they are not atlas,
and neither are you.
tell me, boy king -
you out of all of people should know what
boy kings are only good at one thing:
dying young.