I stood on the edge
of the stage, watching it:
the royal drama occurred
for life and death
which also applied to me

Even as a baby I was taken
to a friendly temple
after father's desperate move
to break the insatiable power
of the priests

with a twilight of the gods
which ended their worship service
and declared it invalid, superceded
by a higher concept
of the divine

Father was right, almost completely
As a king he couldn't be a marionette
of the priests, but the sun
was too high, the Creator
was more earthy, older, a better choice

I could not protect Father
he is murdered, the conflict intensified
My youngest brother persevered
He couldn't help
but to be king or not to be