Kyle Owens lives in the Appalachian Mountains and his work has appeared in Bent Masses, Books to Go Now, Burnt Bridge, Zouch Magazine and his screenplay, “Eden Heights,” is scheduled to go into production in 2012 and will be starring Julienne Davis (Eyes Wide Shut) and be directed by Emmy and Bafta winner Graham Theakston (The Politician’s Wife).
My King, my King-
This solemn lament finds the holy angels of heaven
sapphired bright in the reflections of their celestial wings
against their anguished faces
in reverence to your fallen fate
upon the wintered war grounds of twilight hill
in which you led our nation’s knighted officers
to rapturous victory that freed our world
from tyranny’s siege.
The invasion which came not from afar,
but from within our standing shadows
labored forth into menacing talons
deceived as enlightened dogma
and attempted to crown our fate
atop the devil’s spire.
A philosophy that seized enterprise, moral order and faith
into an unholy backwash
of lost invention, moral decay and worship of our own wretched desires
that our wants will be rewarded whole
through government’s precepts
without due diligence of individual self action.
All was schemed quiet
by the deceivers of the political clergy
to gather the poor to their cause
by grueling wealth
through policy and shame
before reason could strive their farce aloud
that their doctrine required failure of individual purpose
so as to precedent laws to infiltrate freedom and liberty
from the populations core
in exchange for a life without malice
if we only salute their political stratagem
as wisdom’s cornerstone amplified strong.
When rebellion surfaced
the self chosen leaders of the people
seized the press wheel from the printer’s hands,
some by force,
some by a willing, bended knee
and began a march of words
that to argue against their course
is equal in sin to striking the face of God.
They took up arms against our King and our constitution
to take all we had away
into their forced promise of slavery for hope.
We stood shivered
inside the loss of the world
behind a smashed sky
fearing all we had known
would be vultured down
the evil spawned throats
of these grimaced hordes
but our King,
the mighty Castlehaven himself,
led the defense from the face
and deeped his sword
into flesh and bone
in a fury
that will fame his valor
in a trembled glory
which will torrent history’s parchments
with a worship of reverence
in the centuries to come.
We mourn his death,
but celebrate his role
as architect of our purpose
and definer of our lives
in which the philosophies of freedom and liberty practiced
will checkmate every individual’s glutinous want promised.
My King, My King-
whose empire gardened this isle
beneath a wind of eagles
with wings spread wide
on soft laid gales
made our empire,
which was born in war
and perfected by trials verdicted by reason,
a marvel to all the worlds to come.
Godspeed King Castlehaven.
Your name will cornerstone this isle
as strong as the lush orchards groved tall
inside God’s repositories
as the tenth worthy
to essential the public temple
Now I venture the night
to absorb our loss
beneath the lanterned moon
as I watch a river of fired stars
light a path through a throat of sky
in remembrance of our hero’s hold.
We may have lost our King,
but through his courage
spearheaded sharp with brimming confidence,