Murder Of A King Poem by Tim Vallie

The Old Man said to me ‘Why dost thou look so grim? '
I could not answer he, I'd not the will to tell him
The Old Man said to me ‘Come now and tell me son.'
I could not answer he, I could not move my tongue
The Old Man said to me ‘What is the trouble man? '
I could not answer he, he could not know my plan
The Old Man said to me ‘Can thou not speak my friend? '
I could not answer he, whose life I meant to end

The Old Man was not evil, but evil he had done
He had not held the blade, but still had killed my son
As vengeance I now came, to take the Old Man's life
As Death I had arrived, within my cloak a knife

The Old Man said to me ‘You act so strange this day.'
I could not answer he, whom I would now betray
The Old Man said to me ‘Will thou not speak dear friend? '
To his throat I brought the dagger, I brought him to an end
His guard then put a spear directly through my heart
But unto Death I gave this day one final work of art

I brought the Old Lord Mighty death for bringing us to war
I brought the Rich Man an end, in the name of many poor
In the name of those who died while my master just looked on
I brought a King to justice, for using us as pawns
Now many men will wonder about my reason why
But I brought death to the man who had sent my son to die