The mighty kingdom I came across:
The meadow, bloomed with verdant life.
Robins perched on trees, butterflies rested on pedals.
The grass, newly born, already
withering.
The shore, the crystallized river, the cool Spring breeze.
Fishermen, rod in hand whistled in their boats
Many set sail, with their hulks
leaking
The market, bustled with people; Shoulders on shoulders, heels on heels.
Children darted across the fish vendor, the cloths merchant
and the fruit stand, with its sickly sweet fruits
rotting.
The dancers, radiantly dressed, swirled around on tiptoeing feet.
The music danced around them as smiles danced on their faces.
Their mascara,
flaking.
The church, crowded with believers as the pastor preached.
The choir broke the heavens with its hymns as the golden bell chimed
All the voices and echoes,
fading.
The knights stood guard around the city gates.
Battle scarred, their face impassive and their chest proud
By their sides, their trusty swords,
rusting.
At home, inside the cozy rooms,
the wives hummed to themselves as they made dinner.
In the oven, the chicken lay
burning.
This mighty kingdom I came across,
is slowly but surely
dying.
The wanderer
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