King Robert idle in
stomach acid,
slow expectations
and disgruntled moans.
"Man, if only I didn't have
that last cup."
Miracle tablets all gone,
the harsh morning
foreboding while
heading out
in its assembly.
Dragon rays with
hollows mimed. The
nectar of the vines
rested on shoulder,
Keen on getting the
point across;
"Man, I really shouldn't
have had that last cup"
Cliche slow lines for
anemic cries.