_A phone dies. Silence births night._
_He still breathes, gallant, unbroken._
_Shadows whisper of passage, mocking_
_The King: hale, hearty, roaring still._
_They flee, clutching fragments of safety—_
_Questions echo: How? Miracle? Betrayal? _
_Loot evaporates. Treachery laid bare._
_He roars—the King, shadows his crown._
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem