Absence of the Crown

I rule a kingdom incompetent of content,

My brain may be the bearer of my walls,

The encapsulated fluency of marrow in this bone,

These rugged feet yearn strolling farther in the night;

beckoned by who they lack to know. 

My land is purely suited for any but I,

Yet I rule the hopes from them elsewhere,

All that we may be only this true concrete;

Running sand in the desert;

Glued by foreign dropped water.

This crack of light that holds me,

Holds upon the throne of this very perch,

Chained from who or what they see,

My kingdom may be bright-

But I have only see what they may of me.

When this staff holds a treasure more than what it seems,

Where I may be a peasant-

Truly suffering of my sollen soul-

May I suffer and be King.