A king is a thing, if he’s alone.
His crown is a pricking cross,
If he’s alone.
His sceptre is heavily stiff and still
When he’s by no one called subject.
His words are valueless
Where there is no subject to run his errands.
The authority of a king
Is measured by the faithful subjects
And the strength of a kingdom
By the fear and faith of the citizen
Starve the wicked king
With subjects to run his cruel errands
You have overcomed his authority of cruelty.
Starve the kind king with subjects to run his errand of kindness
You have prolonged the days of deliverance
Authority is not tested and vested
On a king in the city that’s empty.
Revolution and reformation is not
The exploit of one styled lone man.
To make flatterers disciples is not a difficult task
But to make wining warriors
Is a great task
I saw one
I leant great lessons from him:
A king, a good king, but all his crucial chiefs
Are in the rebel’s camp!
And the kingdom soon collapsed!
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