The Safari

The golden dust, the scent of coming rain, The rising sun on the vast and open plain. A canvas painted in ochre, green, and gold, A story ancient, and so bravely told. The engine hums, a low and patient sound, As the jeep goes searching for hallowed ground. A silhouette of giraffes, tall and serene, A living image on a wild and endless scene The mighty lions, a sun-soaked tawny pride, Hidden in the grasses where their instincts guide. A leopard's shadow, elusive and so rare, Sliding through the thicket with a quiet, watchful stare. The trumpeting echo of the elephant's call, As families wander, moving free and tall. A wildebeest stampede, a blur of motion swift, A thundering promise, a primal, moving gift. And when the twilight paints the sky anew, With fiery hues of crimson and deep blue, The campfire crackles, a low and steady glow, With jackals barking in the dark, and stars that grow. The stillness settles, vast, deep and wide, The wildness stirring, with nowhere left to hi...
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The Treacherous Court

 

Upon the high-arched galleries, the whisper starts,

A venom meant for unsuspecting hearts.

Amidst the jewels and tapestries, a sigh,

The silent dagger of a jealous eye.

The courtier's smile is polished, bright, and grand,

The poisoned cup held firm within his hand.

He offers praises like a gilded key,

And speaks of loyalty with treacherous eyes.


The queen, a portrait framed in silk and lace,

Knows not the wolves that haunt her sacred space.

Her trusted confidante, with honeyed tone,

Has sought for years to claim her ivory throne.

The prince, her brother, whispers to the guard,

With promises that leave his virtue scarred.

The bloodline cracks, the royal house divides,

By whispered lies and shifting, treacherous tides.


The banquet hall, a feast of glinting knives,

Where every gesture plans a thousand lives.

The jester, with his bells and painted face,

Sees truth in shadows others can't embrace.

He sees the hands that touch and then withdraw,

The shifting eyes that break the gilded law.

For trust is just a ladder, steep and high,

From which a friend will push you down to die.


The King, so sure his power is supreme,

Awakens from a long and golden dream.

To see the courtiers in their fine array,

And knows they kneel for him, but wait to prey.

He feels the chill of treason's icy breath,

A loyalty repaid with certain death.

The whispers fade, the smiles are now a mask,

And each new day presents a deadly task.


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