The Triumph of Ludwig II
It was three days before they drowned you, King,
Three days before they thought “It’s not enough
This cage. We must destroy this dream-washed thing
Who rules our land of stone.” Unkind and rough
They drowned you in the pond, your swan-boat’s moor,
Your only crime a heart too innocent
To ever be royal. Death could not cure
The cannons at your door, and what was spent
From your coffers on castles in the air
Could not be unspent. Ah, what monster penned
Your fairy tale -- the water, cold and fair
That the Prince once loved proved his final end.
But still your mountain halls, not Bismarck’s mills
Fuel dreams. What this world cannot pin, it kills.