Vanity's Prince

I close my eyes and all the world drops dead.
I think I made you up inside my head.
Like a marionette on a string,
You pull my heart like a plaything.

The spoiled prince has many toys,
That he doesn't share with girls and boys.
He locks them in the tower high,
All else who venture near will die.

He likes to fling them off the roof
To see if they are shatter proof.
They're often not, and it is then
The children come to town again.

To pick the remnents of his disgard,
Sneaking over the wall into the yard.
This whole thing is a game to him,
He follows random thoughts at whim.

He is high prince, and quite insane,
The king wonders who's to blame.
He locks his son in the tower cell,
With toys to play and thoughts to dwell.

The prince goes mad thrice around
And smashes his toys upon the ground,
Then leaps to the window to sit on the sill
And watches the courtyard as it sits still.

He lets go of his pain, the window's too,
And springs into the sky so blue.
He closes his eyes as he drops dead.
He lost the game he played in his head.