The king

The king of sorrow,
he slouches in his throne,
watching his queen,
who seems to think she is the only one in the room.
just one shred of passion in her eyes,
just one piece of a heart that has turned to stone,
just one thread of the colorful tapestry of her life,
just one wish.
but he doesn't see whats right in front of him,
that woman who hides in the corner,
awaiting her turn to perform for the great king and his powerful queen.
if only he'd gaze into her eyes,
just one glance,
maybe then he could see,
maybe then he would see her passion,
see her heart,
that one thread of the tapestry of her life,
that one wish he’d had forever.
But he never glances at anyone anymore.