User blog:Cottonfur/The Ramblings of a Mad Cotton

So as I'm sure some of you might now, I can get very bored and very weird when the mood strikes me. The other day I was left alone on chat for like two hours and I went a little crazy with being alone, so I wrote something that I thought I'd just share. It's kind of weird at first (I was just really bored), but then it got kind of poetic, so let me know what you guys things!

At the Hands of a Boy King:
PeasantEntertain meNo, sir! YOU entertain ME*gasp*You bastardNO ONE TELLS ME HOW TO LIVEI'll have your head on a spit for that!Treason!You evil, pompous, good for nothing, lying, stealing, cruel, worthless child of a kingYou DARE speak that way to the KING?AND ME FOR THAT MATTER?Why, yes, sir, I do. I believe I just said as muchWell, well, well. What ever shall we do about that?FACE THE DRAGON!Let you burn in fire and choke on the smokeLet the stone grind your bones to dust and your skin fall off in layersLet your heart blacken like the soul you claim to have and may your soul find it's way into hell where you belongTell Lucifer your sins and he'll laugh and mock you as you laughed and mocked those that sought your helpYou DARE call yourself a king when you are nothing but a child playing dress up in his father's clothesYou don't deserve to be kingYou don't act like a king, nor carry yourself like a king.You don't even fight like a king.And everyone knows that kings only fight for appearancesYour entire house hates you, your wife, your nonexistent children, your uncle, your brother,your sister, and every one of your WHORESYou say I have committed treason, but your very existence is treasonYou have caused the downfall of the kingdomThe wheat is ruined, the maize is rotten, the fruit, pecked by birds. The pumpkins are empty and so is your heart, which is why we are where we areYou help not the peasants, you help not the rich, you help not the sick nor the fallenYou help not the soldiers that protect your very walls and you laugh at those on the streetsSo kill me, if you can, if you dare, if you, with the brain of a half starved worm in a bowl full of food, can even comprehend that of which you have doneYou are a disgraceA leachA parasiteA witchA wizardA snake that slithered into the royal house and ate all the mice that made up the real familyYou hollowed their hearts and soured their mindsTwisting their words to fit your own viewsChanging life to fit what YOU wantDare you say I commit treasonDare you murder meIf I die, they die, and if they die, you dieSee you not the viciousness of this cycle?For what is a king without a country of which to be king of?A pitiful one is it not?Or perhaps, not a king at allYes, I can see in your eyes now that you realize it is trueYouThe evil of youThat of which you know is trueTwisting, changing, grinding, turning, ALL of which is the fault of YOUNothing you say can change it nowThe dark is fallingClosing inCallingYou cannot stop it nowYou fear this is truePlease, do what you wish, just don't lie to us tooYou know you can't stop itIt's consuming us nowEven as we speakIn youIn meIn all of usAt the hands of a boy king