The King's Eulogy

…And so the sable cloak returns,

Our queen shifting glance to gleam,
A kingdom overrun by a turbid sun,

Mournful confliction from clouds to sons,

And yet our sallow queen,

Prescient as she is always,

Elucidating crevice from cracks,

Always prepared for what is yet to come,

Crepuscular allocution, of words and light,

With the attention an elocutionist requires,

A silent prologue on a stygian night

The sea of subjects here unite,

Hands clasped as prayer provides,

A Eulogy for a King,

Presented on the brink of night

While cogent tears drained from queenly eyes,

But do the people weep their fallen king,

Or do opaque clouds circling above,

Provoke razed sentiment throughout the land,

Obligatorily reverting from mournfulness,

To that of marginal recompense,

A king had died, but his land did not