The cowardly king

Hear the trumpet calls outside these walls.

Like an angry storm — crashing, cruelly,
beating down relentlessly,
breaking into my fortress:
they shout for accountability.

“It is safe,”
I lie to myself.
“These walls won’t cave.
They will brave the wave of criticism.”

And so continues my self-deception.
I will take no action.
There will be no reaction.

The king of this castle isn’t home.

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