I Wonder If You Always Tell The Truth

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The African Queen

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?