A Gaelic King
by Michael Doyle

In 700 AD, the Picts and the Gaels divided Scotland
As if that were something natural to command
No force on Earth could unite these kingdoms
To think that possible is sheer bedlam

The impossible doesn't stop hearts from trying
But power is a hunger that leaves all crying
Despite a love of peace always leading desire
All of this went up in a vengeful fire

As an old king dies and grants his son his throne
Having to be hard as a rock with a heart of stone
Stealing away into the pitch dark of night
The new king without his kingdom vows to make it right

The right to reign signified is to be kept hidden
In a brooch that must not be seen as it is forbidden
By those who betrayed their discarded solemn vow
 A need for vengeance screams; he'll make it right somehow

(c) August 27, 2020  Michael Doyle
All Rights Reserved