Matza Di Lourde
The king goes sad and naked
The king goes sad and naked
Just like communities
and their roots, marriage
with the crown
will last for 3 days, washed
thirty-karat gold thread
and more than ten debates
About who should and shouldn't go
to his colloquial lynching
The king will carry
the scepter close to his heart
that a monarch
has to deserve the crown
And own a heart.
He's going to be sad
Not because he's king
but because it was late,
and their commoners
don't like it anymore
nor of monarch customs
Not all
That comes out of there
The king goes like a defendant
fulfill state functions,
Spend too much and get absorbed
for all bridge games
not yet enjoyed,
The king is now a poor monarch
who is accountable to the Prime Minister
of the toilet paper bill
roll-your-own tobacco and events
that will slim down the social fabric
Poor sad monarchy
Who insists on showing with pomp
What the costume and the lip rumbles
There is no joy in the English monarchy
And no beauty in any other
'Cause the kings of nothing
showed to their commoners
that didn't add up
value to its symbology
but they added taxes
to your frequent stay
in European resorts,
in tax havens
in rites and rituals that deserve no place
In the time of monarchy
Who wears the robes
Imperals are the commoners
'Cause they're the ones who pay
their beautiful uniforms
Sapphire embroidery
The king, it is lawful,
can go sadly and richly dressed,
ostensibly programmed
He can see his heritage at the ready
run away to you to pay the NHS ceiling
but no,
before he come on television
at the planned ceremonies
May the king in his splendor
It has nothing to offer the nation
Unless, perhaps,
His shameless spending
Its sad joy and venom
King Charles goes with a saber and a scepter
It goes from zás and from perpetual
End-of-the-Line King
A king among social camilas
and commendations
The monarchy is not what it used to be
The commoners want to believe in the brilliance
From before, but this king
It's already dethroned
with his silly hat,
Unglamorous
With his silly relatives
Of the Court
With his consort
Feed more pages
of the history of the aristocracy
Possible, stupidly emptied
and anachronistically European
with Brexit without Brexit,
Whether you like it or not
The king goes,
but the king is no longer going.
And your coins
will have the stamp of the end of the line
The monarchy is already beautiful
in the eyes of the poor
Family members of monarchs
that can see their substitutes
over the internet, the screen and
Imagining their exiles
playfully between walls of
A Royal Battlement Castle
in the illusion of garments,
In the illusion of power
In illusion, cutout, vision
Of a time that crowns itself
No kings, no royals
No circumstantial pomp.
Who knows, maybe this one isn't
The Last of the Diners
That you can see the bald of the teeth
of his subjects, and
Still on the battlements of the castle
Keep the truth, the secret
of the deposed monarchy;
No Reign Holds Up
By the King
but for the octopus of minutiae
By the princesses and dependencies
By the sapphires and appearances
The king goes to pieces
But he's not king of powers
but penicillin baforent
Full of real idiocy
And it doesn't make the coronation for less
Ordered
An eclipse in Scorpio for that.
It would seem that the latter monarch
Maybe it's given in sacrifice
By the king who kills elephants
and steals their ivory
sumptuous robes
Of the monarchy in the world
Whose name is on the table
for being a man
Same as the others
who has bastard children
and is given to scandals.
And for so many other monarchs
who added nothing
from noble to nobility of Ideals
No king cures the thinness of the
that pay for vices and subtlety
and greatness
and illusions of real stories
where eventually, in
An ancient coronation,
perhaps a dignified one
Frogs become greatness
from other times or into oblivion
of the whole monarchy.
The king goes sad and monarch
And yet, the commoners
they cry out to the heavens,
Of your sorrow
They call their vileness sad
Cry out for some airtime
In a world that no longer admits
Monarchies.
The king then goes monarch, but sick
Insecure but believing
that after these three days of coronation
No one else asks him to account
or lean budgets for
His gestures of capital highness
The king is already late for the coronation.
And British punctuality
It will be escorted by it's royal guard
in the real Big Ben
In the final minute
The King takes off his costume
And the people look upon
the three days as one day
Of colossal illusion
After that, nothing else
It will serve as an excuse
for the current spells
Their demented children
and their goal accomplished.
"Do not expect rejoicing from this king
That is already more plebeian
That the poor man's hat that one day
He wanted it his own.
In the old days of monarchy.
This old lady
will withdraw
Sneered and shoved
through the interstice
foreign and international policy.
Dress up the crown jewels
and the bulwark
The monarchy gets sick like all systems
Privileged one day
The king goes, so let him go,
The crown, this one is in
the Museum of Ancient History
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