The King

We walk down this strange
interminable road
Because we hope something better awaits us
on the other side.
But nothing here is certain
and we spar with every monster that crawls onto our path
Some of us do not make it
They rest their weary heads on the
blood soaked concrete
and that
is where they will die.
Others of us will give up, 
release the hands of those they trusted
with their bellies to the sky they are ready to die.
The things they fear most is closing their eyes and 
living
through another day of fear and compromise.
The cowards stray with the weak, but they won't keep each other safe,
they are not that brave, 
And should one decide they want to stick up for what is right,
they are alienated 
and left lying in a pool of "justice" seeping from their veins. 
The brave are just as weak because they pretend not to be,
and though they leave this world wrapped in garlands of daises and lilies they are still
gone.
It is not the strong the weak, the brave or the fearsome 
But the traitor that will survive, 
who sold to the rats the secrets of his friends, 
A lone victor is crowned as he crawls upon bodies of his friends
to sit a top his throne,
It is then he realizes that he is alone..