Onmas the wise,
Onmas the fair,
Wearing the skin of the king of the Bears.
His subjects would think he could do no wrong.
But he had a secret he could not escape
Of how he acquired his grand ursine cape
That hung to his knees from his right royal nape.
The story so went, as told to his scribe,
(Who was no stranger to taking a bribe)
That politickal strife gripped the Bears’ land
And King Bear, with power, turned rocks to sand,
A warmonger at heart, vicious tyrant
(Although, by all accounts, strangely fragrant).
Onmas travelled to the Kingdom of Bears
To battle the King, who took what was theirs.
The struggle ended, with Onmas on top
Of the skinned corpse of the King-Who-Was-Not
Though there are those who thought different,
That Onmas had told it with heroick slant.
Truth of the matter, the two Kings were friends
Working together to achieve their ends
Though Onmas was jealous of his friend’s fur
That glistered in sunlight like fine silver.
One fateful eve, in each other’s comp’ny
In a tower overlooking the sea,
Onmas got his friend drunk on honeyed mead.
When his back was turned, he then did the deed;
A knife to the head, a blade in the back
And King Bear’s view of the sea all went black.
In minutes, Onmas was wearing his friend
Who, by betrayal, had soon met his end.
Foul murder born from the foulest of greed,
Although most felt he was still fit to lead.
Try to speak out, and you will surely lose
For those who’d object, Onmas got a new pair of shoes.