top of page
  • Writer's pictureHeavenly Chaos

The Richest King

Knights to the kingdom

Those will be your places

The crowds, arrange them

My life will disperse

My craft in a verse

Those bodies in a hearse

My rhymes they rehearse

Quick crowd: applaud

The rounds of the waves that break the sound

The lives of the jealous

You mad?

Frown clown

Drown in your tears, and bow down

Worship GOD, with the highest crown

These words will lift and enlighten

My sights are out of space

Dark like lint in pockets

Major, my minor is Haley

They call me crazy

I am brain wavy

Lays is not lazy

The Pringles are wavy

The days are outstanding

The pain of love?

I am withstanding

I am the risen King

I have come to start my reign

I have came and these hearts go bang

They scream out “Oh we do not love him the same”

It is a shame

My shot at fame was a winning lane

Grammy count?

Insane

I write and my 1,097 Grammies say their names

Witherspoon range

Until the seasons change

Rooks to knights and pawns as queens

The systems I arrange around

Block 175th Lane

14.8 billion claim, bye to that King

Charles in Charge, tatted Chanel on my sleeve

Hearts mastered faster than that Charles changed his name

Keith, shitstoppiestoopie

My brain, membranes, cranial game

Miles ran to distant lands in artificial intelligence plans

Scheduled seventy two, distant routes

Listed 75th golden pistols shoots

Those ponies fall slowly when their team is the opposition

Wins, I draw flags with new beginnings

Zero land endings planned

I fly above distant lands

Hoverboard, gifted from my hands

Spaceship across golden plans

Lifted

Heightened across distant land mines

Arranged plans

Shifted witnesses

Designed in fiction

Painted visions

The unspoken children in the parade route

Gifted paranoia

The English cops that shot

Fire one thousand, nine hundred and eighty two

Riots

The policemen, shotty sons

Relinquished collarbones

Stories shown

Above and beyond foreign homes

This game

In this unfortunate lane The King is home

Excuse my lack of manners

I come with four golden handles

Tabernacle, Dead Sea in shambles

My life, one you could not handle

This vision, I am withstanding

This developed lane, I have been planning

Five hundred forty nine billion trillion billion planet

Superman physically has landed

See, I am from a distant planet

Heaven, and I command it

The biggest spoon, shifted in my right hand

Thy golden crown is in high demand

It will never be reprimanded

The seas are higher, and I control the sands

I report from beyond the lands

Distant seas

An avalanche

Money pouring like the sands are drenched

In rain or by crashing waves as they ascend

I thought “blind them with envy” and I accomplished it

Recent Posts

Comments


bottom of page