The Bloodline Part 3 (The Prophecy Is Fulfilled) Poem by Uche Nwanze

The throne in doldrums, the crown in troubled waters.
Death by the doorway of the palace. The young crown struck, so esoteric a malady never seen or heard of in the Kingdom of the North and South.
The palace in palpable fear of what lurks tomorrow.
The gods have spoken from their mouthpiece.
Water drunk from the hand of the chosen, the elixir.
The fruit from the womb of the commoner, the seed from the loins of the young crown the antidote to scare the god of death from the palace gates.
The son of the uptown lass, the commoner with royalty in his blood wanders across mountains and valleys.
In search of a morsel to fend for his mother, the young lass and his hungry mouth.
A date with fate imminent, his ancestry is royalty.
The son of the uptown lass a butler for the crown struck by a malady not seen or heard in all of the kingdom.
Royal blood cries out for her kin.
Then a night did come and fate prepare a banquet with him and the crown.
Water from his hands, gave he to the crown as the oracle foretold.
The prophecy foretold now fulfilled.
The legend is true, the gods are propitiated.
The crown escape the gates of Hades.
The crown by hairs breath saved from the lair of death.
The son of the uptown lass, the fruit of their coition decorated by the throne
The palace, no longer a shadow of subdued voices and forlorn faces.
A royal banquet, a ball to celebrate the arrival of the lost bloodline.
A happy Reunion, the uptown lass the relic of history now a medal of honour.
From the little town to the Capitol.
From crumbs to the table,
From rags to riches.
The legend is true.
The prophecy is fulfilled.
The bloodline lives on.


(THE END)