Relaxed, reclined, and looking upon
The sun splitting through the trees at dawn
The soft radiance trickles right through
The leaves, the twigs, the morning dew
The gentle rays spill over me
With my back against my gnarled tree
the grass and leaves and the flowers aground
lay still as I, not making a sound
for here I am king, the benevolent one
that rules his domain under the warm dawn sun
with no complaints, nor righteous support
from the ones whom I rule, a neutral sort
that sits and watches without care
with trust in me, for I am the fair
that wants only peace under these trees
with the biggest disturbance a light rolling breeze
and that I do find in my verdant land
whilst grasping my grass in the palm of my hand
So with pride I sit on my mossy throne
And rule my kingdom, albeit alone