Regicide---a poem by stephen richard eng

Regicide

We harvested so many grapes each day,

Our hands and lips were purpled, stained

The shade of royalty:  kings gone away

To die with queens, till rust remained 

Of each tarnished throne and crumpled gown.

Inside her bed at night she floated far from me,

And like a knight that tugs a queen’s great gown,

I knew my enemy was brute Eternity,

That crushes kingdoms made of stone or dreams.

She often mentioned autumn—back at school,

Her words like shears, slicing well-stitched seams

Upon the royal tapestry, a cruel

And fitting ending to the fading myth,

Once woven lovingly, now scissored with!

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