Would Be King

In These Times of “Western Civilisation”
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Who would be king, must abdicate
All wish to rule. His attitude
Should stay inferred, unless it fits
The country’s governance, lest they
Should boot him on the other foot
And boo his humble protests...

So you are born to it? Your lonely choice
To spurn your birth-right, and accept discord
In seeking after urges of your heart,
Means: Leave your destined hearth, and risk being cast
Out coldly from your dearest kith and kin.
If you can bear this, then take, brave, your leave
And hope one day to speak with those bereaved
Of your planned turn in vested dignity
That hangs upon the brows of monarchy...

The cost that way is great, dear Prince, and most
Resist that call, that road of mingled mirth
All mangled by the gossips of the world-
The meanest tongues from meddling minds you’ve heard.
Easier to stay with where you find yourself...
You are no Buddha yet, to break away
And sit for years in dust to meditate
Till deepest knowledge opens your eyes wide
To blessed peace in poverty’s sunrise .

So bow your poor throned head, Unfortunate,
Content yourself with smiling, tea, and dogs
To follow you through many dreary walks
The nation’s width, pat wide-eyed children
On their shampooed heads, and chat
Of nothings in the rehearsed etiquette...

I pray for you that duty’s lure
Will, as in ancient times, suffice:
A Roman governor gained much respect
From joining ranks, and leaving out a voice
Of dissent from the citizens accord
For common good. E’en though it abased slaves
Within the system, rulers were well served
In their appointed place, the royal- with the rich
And purple cloak which, if Caesar abused,
Would lose him his esteem in the known world...

Keep thou, o King, from such a tragic fate!
Your murmurings may bring much needed good
And hope for people in this breaking world.
A crown, a promise, held through joy and grief
Can give those crying in the dark, relief.

You’d still be King? Then may your plotted life
Prepared for thee by others, well suffice,
And, while you serve your duty, find delight
In caring for us all, in giving wealth
To help your country to much better health
Than now it lingers in. The poor can’t wait
For food, or shelter, as they crowd your gate.
The ancient writings summon thee to share
With all who plead: THIS is the Royal care!