Ragged Little Kingdom


Mai Phan

 

 

“Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!”

-Ozymandias, by Percy Bysshe Shelley

 

 

 

It's a ragged little kingdom

'Neath a jagged little spire

And I've a ragged little resting place

To sleep on when I tire.

 

It's a vagabonded life

Wrapped in vagabonded clothes.

Most of which will keep me warm

(Excepting for my nose.)

 

All the tenements and towers,

And the signs along the way,

Scream "Ozymandias was here!"

- Before he went away.

 

There are canyons made by castles,

Where the narrow sky is thin.

So I prefer the open park,

Though it lets the winter in.

 

A nd I gather up the cast-offs

While the subject go a-toiling.

At least the falling temperature

Keeps my milk from spoiling.

 

There's a Sister and a Father

As a family, quite odd

And they'll preach a soup each evening

For those who still believe in God.

 

And the soup is served with sermons,

Because soup ain't had for free,

And I still believe in God;

Not sure if he believes in me.

 

Oh, it's the land of milk and honey,

Even for the self-anointed.

And long as you don't ask for much,

You won't be disappointed.

 

There's a Beauty on a balcony

That overlooks my park,

And a Beast upon the battlements,

Prowling after dark.

 

There's a winter in the offing,

And an empty jug of wine.

I scorn to change my state with kings,

'Cause Brother, it's all MINE.

 

 

 

 

 

~

 

 

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