The girth and grip of the tulip trunk thrust
Wrist deep into the soil of the school playground
Fronts an edifice risen only to crumble.
Unfallen and aged, escaping the steel chain,
Your crown unbestowed, no body bends
supplicant to you, though all are at base abject.
You seek no fealty but stand resounding
against the proclamations of pretenders.
When your reign ends so all succession.