The single hair that holds the danger aloft

is but a trigger in the minds of those with envy in their heart.

The crown unsettled, as if troubled by feet of clay so soft,

is not to be worn by one whose for lust of power is but a start.

I will not envisage a crown upon my head

nor will Damocles push me into the arena bold

for when all is not done and never mentioned, never said,

will my heart be cravenly sold.