Glades

A tender flower looked at the prince over the mildewed grass,
wondering who the fellow was, sleeping with a face so calm;
Something's wrong with his pallor though she, something about his eyes,
never have I seen a chap so still, so completely detached from life;

Many moons had passed,many stars had shown, over the garden glades,
and he began to bloat,he began to smell, much like a rotten corpse;
Oh! What an arrogant lad thought she, how dare he look so bad,
somebody should tell him firmly, to go die somewhere else;

Autumn passed and winter came, over the hallowed land,
the flower she was no more, much like all her friends;
The prince, lay he, still like a bunch of bones ,
who are we to judge, who are we to dictate, over the grassy glades;