King In Exile Poem by Tsani Jones

I am the exiled king.
I wander under cover of darkness
Slaying dragons with tears,
Quelling armies with my love.

My mind is a razor
Cutting through the idiosyncrasy
Of a world dominated
By the pretty ones of feeble sand.

I look dirty, beaten,
My crown is broken
But a crown does not a king make.
The flames in my eyes do...

I lurk in shadow
Move silent and swift,
And when your heart is still,
I am there.

When you cry for a real love, a real hero,
A heart's salvation,
My arms will touch you
And you will know me.

I am the exiled king,
But I look like your pauper,
The package you didn't expect
On a dimension you don't yet understand.

My vessel holds a single drop,
But your eyes are
The fountain to
Fill it over the brim.

And I starve for that
Close tender touch,
Your caress that
Satisfies my soul.

I am the power
You can't fathom-
I am the royalty
Of which cannot be taught.

Open me up!
Open me wide!
Bring me next to your side,
Lead me back to your heart.

Our time is upon us,
For now I must deny my exile-
I am your King, you are my beautiful, terrible Queen,
And our kingdom is love.