King, Queen, Monach of your realm
Why do you rule as you do?
For that land which you keenly helm
Is there love, and order too?
Mayhap you have a throne
Or maybe no place to rest
In this place you call your own
Is it kept at its best?
Do you tend it for viewers,
To not seem unsightly to their eyes?
Do you hold things in place with skewers
That prick you, but they don't realise?
I wonder if you in fact are aware
It is you, and solely you who rule
It is you who must decide to care
And whether to be sage or fool
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