Jostling Sights

The tallest man on the land leads
But his vision is short
Cut only to his crowns and clowns
How the people of the land must be proud

Building caskets for his departure
His plot, they continue to weave
Soon, maybe a rapture
Still, he continues to wave

Look to your right, to your left, below and above
How abundant his actions continue to yield
Fruits of his labour hanging above
Let all race to the field

To soak themselves in the honey
His royal majesty continues to hone

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