misdream

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postpoems

"misdream"

 

 

He spoke of majesty as sacrament,
 while others bartered power like grain.
He built a palace of glass ideals,
 and wondered why stones broke it.

 

Misread, mistrusted, misaligned,
 he stood apart, a figure out of season.
Not tyrant only, nor saint entire,
 but a man who dreamed the wrong dream
 in the wrong room,
 at the wrong time.

 

 

 

 

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