#159

Query on Vanity

In a single rose, seldom grown
Lurk thorns of the forest and wisdom's heavy sigh

Proles growing in a dim world, with nothing enlightened
The frostbite of a single rose numbs the thumb

I breached the retching poured into the sewage
Where drizzle flows through underground cities ruled by cleverness

The sewage slurps all blooms from the ground
In a brief moment, they die and are easily reborn

A bassinet from the underground crowns a new king
Who breathes in pleasure and exhales guilt

Cared for by a breeder, with nothing more to breathe
He scoops a portion from the world's wrong side
And digests it into a shiny coin

The coin has only one side, and it is called Justice
Decades later, when the king passes
A commemoration is held by a ritual ghoul
Who once devoured the empty crown for pleasure

It destabilizes the sacred kingdom
Built on every corner, floating above the water

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