THE EUNUCH

Power is a misunderstood phenomenon,
Whose face rarely belongs to the one who weilds it,
She is the buxom temptress,
In whose harem abides intoxicating pleasures,
And her doors are governed by the eunuch.

The Eunuch moves unseen with the ear of the ruler,
His slight nod sets the day in motion;
It is his furrowed brow that wakes the kings compassion,
His nonchalant shrug that stays the next appointment,
His unassuming demeanor, that makes him privy to the secrets of the state.

In the silent times,
When sounds of merrymaking,
Come over the heavy ornamented doors,
Power retreats to her chambers,
And entrusts the key to the eunuch.

Black Widow

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