The slumber untold, the smoke cleared
The hero and his unnamed enemy, face
to face.
As glory stole another desire
The assassin in his grave, weeping for grace.
Victorious our hero returns
The generals salute his arrival.
Amidst a
wild array of honours bestowed
He has hidden his secret betrayal.
Shameful, he steps to the throne
While Angels toss roses to his feet.
Eyes
to the floor he takes his place
Hidden from the people, a sense of defeat.
He faces his public, adorned in splendour
Of gold and silver from exotic
lands.
The crowning glory, the mark of the King
The Sapphire, shaped by the Goddess’ fair hands.
Addressing the crowd, nerves frayed
A pause...a familiar face he has seen.
Searching
his memory, myriad of legend
It’s her! The African Queen.
African Queen, spirit guide
A teacher to those willing to learn.
They
had met but once. Centuries ago. Unforgettable.
A second chance he had tried to earn.
She promised a reunion
The time had come. At last.
For this moment he
had waited, euphoria
A second glance, the chance, had passed.
Was this not the meeting she spoke of?
Or was this just the price he must
pay?
Had he made a coward’s escape?
Or had he lived to fight another day?
