There's Hope In Consequence

 There's an archer over hill
perched silently beyond his bow
below, the proposed assassination of the king
and what an honour they've bestowed
"he who killed the tyrant"
word will spread throughout the land
words of the kings demise
at the hands of an unnamed man 
An honourable soul
with a fist full of righteous intent 
with the skill and the bravery 
to end the pestilence and torment 
poised upon baited breath
as the king departs his stone covers
the archer draws back his bow
seeing seething dark colours
awaiting that ideal shot 
he knows timing is everything
he follows the king in his sights
his fingers steady upon the heavy string
the king finally turns to bare his face
it's leathery and quite disgraceful
his vesture of purple and gold 
ludicrous and quite distasteful 
the archer fires
confident as fate descended 
the arrow whistles in a whisper
and kisses its intended
As the kings blood spills
the archer knows it's ended
he fades into the dense forest
back to the arms of those he defended.