How could he dare?
To call her doll of gold
A fake, a dead thing?
Now face the wrath
Of the mighty king.
All his men came running
To his tiny home
Swords shining and blazing
To tear down his small hut
How could he dare?
He knew the king was smitten
By his pretty little doll
How could he have guts?
To call her fake, a false?
That too clear and loud?
Now he should face
The fury of the king
His coming generations
Will remember this teaching
To never touch king’s doll.
wild wind blows free
13 years ago
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