The King

He sits at the edge of the water,
He looks at the waves,
Intercoursing-
Shushing eachother,
Whilst absorbing the pleasure.
He looks at the sky,
Merging with the water,
Disturbing the orgasmic harmony,
Cracking it with envy
with the Sun’s rays, the ally.
The ally- the egoist,
Looking into the water,
At its grand reflection,
Unconcerned,
Undefeated,
Lonely.
He sits on the rocks,
Unmoved by the engagement,
The envy,
The ego.
The rocks, so indifferent,
So strong,
So powerful-
That the water kisses them
As a loyal subject,
The sun shines on them,
But rebounds with fear,
The sky tries to approach,
But is hindered by the horizon.
These rocks,
On which he sits,
He sits on them,
Peacefully, graciously,
He is the king of the king.