The Young King

The feathers graced upon,

The shoulders of the young King

And silence falls upon,

The ever loyal crowd.

Then he turns to face his followers,

And the crowd erupts aloud

"KIRA! KIRA! KIRA!. . ."

In an unending chorus

To commemorate the the Kings 25th birthday

Under the leadership and brains

Of the young man they know only as

KIRA.

Their world has improved,

To the lesser of the lot,

Under the leadership of the young man they

Know soully as

KIRA

His true name sought by all who oppose him.

"We call them; Evil stokers in the night."

But his name remains cleverly hidden to all,

LIGHT.