Masses upon masses stared
Upon the potent, hazy stones
That so elegantly topped
The spire at the top of the world.

Amethysts, indeed they were.
Stones of such purity and innocence
Yet such deception and subtlety.
Premediation, indeed they radiated.

A lone, fretful figure hunched
Below the amethyst canopy.
He stared upwards at the mauve sky
And perceived danger and despair.

He gazed down upon his people
Sensing their utter despondency.
Indeed, with nerves of lilac diamond
One could not bother with simpletons.

The wind fiercely whipped up,
Like a spray of thistle in a dust storm.
The old king became jelly-like
As a purple haze settled in the tower.

The king's gaze shifted to the amethyst.
Tout de suite, pain invaded his veins.
Dagger stained with violet blood, he croaked
Amethysts! Thou hast caus'd thee bane!

Fin.