Zywa The Golden King (“El Dorado”)

It was great
to be king
but I don't have the power

to hold up the end
They undress me completely
and smear me with grease

with pipes, they blow dust gold
on me, they cover me
with years of envy

The procession leads me
to the throne on the raft
it is a ruthless play

Shining in the light
of my father, the sun
I float across the lake

to lurking eyes
on the other side
that would come to skin me

if I didn't have a wash
and hastily gave the sun
to the greedy water

Poem 2137
Amsterdam, 2019-03-01

Collection: Mosaic virus 
Keyword: Power: 
Keyword: Brasil% 
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