and its majesty was incredible.

the tallest house in the land, it was the palace
the refuge of royalty, wealth and (fake) joy
one of glorious composers and celli
violin solos and baroque music.

plates were filled to the top,
desserts lush, filling, delicious
isn't that the joy of prosperity?

then the revolution came.

guillotines and blood flying
all glory was lost for the sake of freedom
(at least that's what the argument was)

and the war was bloody, long
soon no castle was left standing…

the wood carved beautiful details
architecture and lovely sculptures gone
into a pile of nothingness beside a cobblestone street

…and the only thing left of such wonderful majesty
was the ragged coat of a beggar who lived in the ashes
and his single piece of bread and its crumbs
beside his sleeping head.