No Stories For April

You can find a downloadable version of this poem here: (.PDF)

Dance, clown of the King.

You jester wrought in chains of spite and pain.

Let he who brought forth such a misery upon the court,

Be thrown off the tallest tower,

Off the highest peak,

Into the depths.

Why are you loathe to retort?

The iron upon your neck, cause of swelling and hate.

Fool through thorough woes, tears your only food for thought.

Yet thou persist.

Living. Why?

Such sunlight beaming its blessed gift upon thine hide.

Shaking in the rich velvet and silk,

In the disease-consumed leather bag,

Huddling feet close together, arms snap begging for the sun,

It’s bright here, near the throne. It’s warm here, near the throne.

Come out from the shadow,

Dance and tell us stories,

Stories of brave knights and of voluptuous maidens with darkened hair,

Of towers of steel and men wearing armour beneath their flesh,

Of metal dragons spitting fire and death,

Of peasants becoming Kings.

In defiance of God.

Come forward thee coward,

And tell us these stories,

Tell us these stories and dance for us,

For April she shortly wains.

--Share Site on Social Media--
--News & Updates--
Short stories, flash fiction or poetry uploaded every two weeks!
  • Any questions or feedback, send it to: 
  • Why not subscribe to my quarterly newsletter while you're at it? 
  • Taking over the world is postponed until further notice.
--Recent Stories--

--Email & Social Media--

Email :

Facebook :  @variedfiction

Instagram: @varied_fiction

Twitter : @VariedF

DISCLAIMER: This website contains works of fiction. Names, characters, plots and incidents are mere products of the writer's imagination and/or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead, residing within the real world is entirely a coincidence and/or due to inspiration. The government is watching you, please view the Varied Fiction Privacy Policy

Varied Fiction© -- to view the copyright statement click here.