The Sensitive King

You were led to the pedestal
my hand ushering you
to the rightful throne

I would have served you
even through
the tatters
of previous deceptions
allowing my heart
the irresponsible task
of taking over the logic
to deem you
my worthy Queen

The nobility of the idea
revealing the flaw
that eventually
would show you
I could be sacrificed
for such devotion

An execution swift
returned to
a cold, lonely bed
for being softer
than the harsher men
of that formative experience

I see now
a roguish imagination
would do little to
elevate the known
of a coarse hand

After that,
detachment was easy
but sometimes I wish
I could praise another
like I once did.