The King’s Burden
by David E. Booker
The king sat high upon his throne, /
A tear upon his eye. /
He shook his head in a sad, sad way /
And asked himself, “Oh, why?” /
His quest had failed, his journey ended /
Without the Holy Grail. /
He searched for reasons in his wounded heart /
But his search was to no avail. /
Try as he might, his burdened remained /
And haunted him day and night. /
He had done his best, better than the rest /
But still his heart wasn’t right. /
He raised his sword, struck down a gourd /
Ready for one last try. /
Yet returned the tears and the dark fears /
And doubts and cries of “Why?!” /
O’ let this be a grave lesson learned: /
Beware charging up Death’s ridge. /
With sword in hand, you may march into a land /
Only to cross over Failure’s bridge.
Booker's Blog 