Beautiful Tyrant

O, Beautiful Tyrant

How we love you most fair

Sunlight dipped in marble

Your countenance a glare

Propped up on a column

Fashioned eternity

Fad for a thousand years

A vogue fraternity

How we love our bent knee

Scraped on blood draped cobbles

Testament of our worth

Our prayers simple squabbles

You have heard them before

O, Most Excellent Shroud

We deserve the stale bread

Your priests toss to the crowd

So fair are your fables

Temptations carved in stone

A lie we can believe

Our rose colored dead bone

For truth is a hindrance

An inscription on tombs

But your story frees us

To hide in all your rooms

Lost in your vast palace

Your face on every wall

We are freed to serve you

A plumed guard at your ball

Our service motionless

Carved in brilliant attire

Our lives just standing there

Like fence posts in a shire

We are servants in hell

But you make hell so fine

With the tilt of your head

Your smiling lips our shrine

Your lies so permanent

Your deceits full of grace

A god we have fashioned

Ourselves in marbled face

For no greater tyrant

Lords us better than we

Your beauty our funhouse

The sins we choose to see

Published by Michael Sean Erickson

I write, act, and produce films in Los Angeles. Everything else is conjecture.

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