JESTER As I walked among the bodies their armor was dripping,drenched with blood lances,swords,battle axes were impaled, protruding,dangling from mutated carcasses how lucky was I? not to be a knight. If I could not make the king laugh,then I would die. No battles,no wars for me my weapon was a foolish act for a smile,perhaps a chuckle to achieve that is what my life was worth. Showtime for his majesty is about to begin. I posture myself in the ring of content wearing my usual colorful garb,and my faithful jingle jangle pointy head wear. I top it off a with small rubber nose,the silence grows. As I juggle a cup,a vase,and a ball,nothing from the crowd. slapping my face with a smelly old fish a snicker trickles from the back,but not to loud. So moving on to my next folly the time traveled prat fall. And what a whopper it is,blood everywhere,breaking my nose is all. Now for the finale, but not to fast. A not so simple pyrotechnic trick to cast. First my foot's a flame,then up my leg,now my torso is burning. I should put it out but the sustained laughter, it's heightened sound is just what I was yearning. The clapping,hooting,and hollering,is all I need. I have done my job,I have done my deed. If I could not make the king laugh,then I would die. No battles or wars for me. My weapon was a foolish act. They call me the jester. |