The Place that leads - the Place of Grace.
The Princes sit in their Saddles,
Their Talking is tense and terse.
There They are, young and strong,
The Princes of the Universe.
Hear the Battle-Cry, feel the Horses' Thunder.
They make no Mistake, they make no Blunder.
They have no Equal,
Not one Person dares.
They would kill Him easily,
For They have no Cares.
They pierce through the King's Guards,
And maraud their Enemies.
They couldn't care less,
If They have no Glees.
After the Attack, they sit in their Tents,
With the worthy King's Head on their Knees.
They laugh and They drink Wine.
Each One says, the Kingdom is now mine.
It is, of course, now theirs
To praise or curse.
They got what They deserved.
They, the Princes of the Universe.
I wrote this a long time ago (in 1999, I think) and found it on my comp a few days ago. This is exactly as it was. I put it here because it's less embarrassing than some of my other poetry.
My URL: www.geocities.com/adityabidikar