In criticism of self

if I ever make your bed
you may choose to stay awake.
the same can be said
about risks I may never take.

like to courtesy a king
because so must all his serfs.
but to kneel, bow, to kiss the ring,
wouldn’t be done on my turf.

if I ever show in public
what my private life designs
none would think me meek
nothing about my glitter would shine.

at the littlest sin
i’ll bear a grudge
i’ll nurse hate for a kin
i’ll be guilty and be the judge.

if I ever lead you to a war
you might be the sacrifice.
we may only need libations to be pour
for every piece of you, every slice.

leonell echa