The monarch

Approach on knee, and bend, and swoon
toward ha'penny feet, or his of doubloon.
Then stand, so soon - to throne and moon!
Oh, crown of gems with lustered kiss,
against the gnarl of knuckled fist.
His will should bear the marks of this,
the hand of servile labored sin.
His lineage stands as next of kin.
For a king's command the reign begins
with a feast fit for an unruly crowd.
While peasants starve and farm the ground,
he merely wishes more had bowed.