In the coming six to seven acts, I shall try to narrate a story which is very close to my heart and has been veiled in allegory. (This is my first attempt at poetic prose, so please bear with me)
A lot has been talked about,
Feelings have been let out,
Of exploits of a man I knew,
Of glories they say he construe.
But there’s more than what meets the eye,
For not every story was an illustrious lie.
Act I : Inception
The tale begins at the Prime’s court,
The man a minister, the proceedings he wrote.
A vanquished monk, better kept at bay,
Abandoned by the people, still came to the fray.
The monk a friend: a renowned edit,
Despised the man; for want of his credit.
But fate had in store a different turn,
An exciting journey - no one could discern,
So in fortune’s end was his fate thrown,
As he left the court where his power could’ve grown,
Leaving a legacy in the streets, and the throne.
The condescending wizard was not yet pleased,
For the man in question still had to bleed.