I wrote another LB poem as part of National Poetry Writing Month this year. I desperately wanted to write a ballade, and this ended up being the result. I think it's a bit too flowery...but then again, maybe that suits Leon just fine.

Immune, immune to slanderous lies
Am I! I slay them daily in excess.
Such stark attempts to sensationalise
Could never match the soft caress
With which I have been kindly blessed.
I bask, content in this delight,
But have often wondered, I must confess:
What if the rebels are right?

They told of the fire that fills the skies
And I was ordered at once to suppress
These disturbances, these troublesome cries.
But as seas turn to blood, I fail to express
Anything other than futile distress!
For if I should trust in my own sight,
I feel, ergo, I must acquiesce.
What if the rebels are right?

How can a man disbelieve his eyes?
And yet, how could I ever transgress
Against the one whom I saw arise,
The one who is perfect in all his finesse,
The one over whom I fawn and obsess?
Oh, why does the sun seem uncommonly bright
And its heat so unbearable? but I digress.
What if the rebels are right?

ENVOI:
My Prince, the power which you possess
Could surely conquer any plight
But have you considered, nevertheless,
That perhaps the rebels are right?