The Tale

Come hither and sit down.
Hearken to a tale of woe.
Hear of the King losing his crown.
Understand the tears of the land that flow.

The King is not one, but many.
It is his subjects who are few.
They are as equal as any,
Or, once they were but 'tis no longer true.

The land was carefully chosen
By the King who laid the law.
But bit by bit the law became fallen,
Tarnished and blemished - filled with flaw.

The subjects served the King,
But only at the very start.
Soon they started their wandering,
Adding more than their share to their part.

The King made the law very clear,
And told the subjects his will.
But did they listen - or so appear?
Alas! They ignored so their own lust they could fulfill.

Piece by piece they took away
That which did not belong to them.
Slowly, the King they did start to slay
And so their own lives they did condemn.

They began to ignore the King
And took his powers into their own hands.
No longer to truth did they cling.
They failed to heed the King's demands.

The heartstrings of the land fell apart
And darkness swept completely through.
Hope and love and law did depart -
Creating a dread fear which grew.

The King's power was slipping,
The subjects stealthily stealing it.
It would not be long until the sting -
And the truth of it they would admit.

The King was led to ignorance
And kept unaware of their actions
Until he was blind to their offense;
Kept busy by their distractions.

Parts of the King were not blinded so,
But they were purposefully blotted out.
Soon, however, the truth was to show,
And the crimes of the subjects no man could doubt.

Alack but it was too late!
The King had no power now.
Subject to his subjects - a terrible fate.
He will suffer; that, no man can disavow.

Woe to those who live in broken land!
If only they were not blinded so!
Would the King have seen what the subjects planned,
Then down that path he would not go!

But the voices were silenced,
The truth covered in greed and lust.
The destruction was not sensed,
And what once was great now turned to dust.

The careful balance of all
Was thrown silently off kilter.
The great King now is small,
His life sentenced to a blur.

Maugre these froward subjects,
Fain it is that part of the King survived.
Someday the lost ones it shall vex,
And hope itself be revived.

Yet this small part only flickers faintly,
As the darkness threatens to quench it.
So listen closely to its plea
Before you dig too deep in your pit.

Cry for the King and his fall.
Give lament for the law that did fail
Because of the sin of the subjects - one and all.
Take heed of the words of this tale
And realize that you are part of the King
Who fell to his subjects without realizing.