Hail the King
The king… found to be innocent.
Not one shred of evidence found.
The poor man mocked into the ground.
His death by greed, no accident.
The man besieged begins descent,
no sleep, no love, no calls he’s true,
but rather of he’s down, he’s through.
Forced to flee to distant lands,
led to death by charlatan hands.
Too late justice , what does it do?
My entry for this week’s Décima Poetry Challenge NO. 55 (GROUND).
© 2021- Ronovan Hester Copyright reserved. The author asserts his moral and legal rights over this work.