Wear a cape and strike a pose;
then you'll be a man.
Fly away into the stars
where you once began.
Your songs on earth, still sung tonight;
we remember your last fight,
your brokenness upon the throne,
and how the mighty man did groan.
Now kingless, an empty chair,
and madmen fight upon the coronation stair.
Bloody carpet of would be kings
who trod and stain and stain again—your absence brings.
In the day, their forgotten names, this mad world chants;
each syllable a shriek—every betrayal, a dance.
It's in the night, under the stars, that I remember you.
Seeing the stars, when the sun is gone from view,
—O how orderly their dance! I pray you will return.
Will they give you back, or leave us here to burn?
Tale Told 