Prince Plethora's Pleasure Palace ~ a Poem of Excess

A minstrel strums,

Another drums.

The music gay

And loud.

A cheetah trained

And unrestrained,

Wanders

Through the crowd.

Dancing girls

They shake and twirl,

Attracting

Lustful glances.

With flowing hair,

And midriff bare,

As an Arab stallion

Prances.

The jester laughs

At two giraffes,

And juggles

To applause.

With finger raised,

The Prince is praised.

The grotesque goblin

Fawns.

Strong men wrestle,

While couples grapple

In uncensored

Fornication.

Children play

Unsupervised,

And watch

In fascination

Man servants mince

Beside the Prince.

They feed him

Like a child.

The people stare

At a dancing bear,

Chained,

No longer wild.

A thief is led into the room,

The man awaits his doom.

100 lashes he endures,

Before the whipping ceases.

The young Prince stands

And claps his hands,

Excitement

Just increases.

The drunken crowd

Is cheering loud,

Their taste for blood

Now sated.

Of this Pleasure Palace

Some are jealous,

And Prince Plethora,

Hated.

The music drops,

All frolic stops,

The Prince cries out,

"No More!"

This orgy ends

As night descends.

Prince Plethora's word

Is law.