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Rated: E · Poetry · Death · #1353877
This is a poem about a town who was decieved to their death and the cunning of deciet.
The Kingdom Which Was Doomed

Listen closely, my readers, and a tale will I tell
Of a Kingdom of olden days and how it tragically fell
Of a foolish King and a Prophet and his crafty spell
And the dark way, that a town said farewell

"Death!" cried the watchman
"Death!" cried the King
For they both saw the morning sun
Which carried doom on it's wings

The King sat in his study, his eyes were bloodshot red
For the last month, he had pondered what the Prophet said,
"King, by this time next month, every one of you will be dead
It is down the path to your end that you tread

You will die by the hands of fools, it is hopeless to run away
Every person in this land will surely die that day"
Though the King asked more, 'twas all the Prophet would say
So for a long and somber month now, both King and people prayed

The King had thought the entire time, about what he must do
By the time the third week had come, he declared, "It is hopeless! It is true!"
It became like a ghost town, as if all of their lives were already through
The rising of the sun that day was like death's gravely cue

The King called all of his people into the town
The time was fast coming, no one made a sound
Their faces were dark, a unkind group of frowns
All from the Kingdom were there, both of peasant and crown

The King said, "The moment has come. Soon we will die!
Try to stay calm and it's alright to cry.
But I see only one path and I will not lie
We've been told there's no hope and that we shouldn't try

So with pride and for dignity I will take my own life
It is your choice, my people, if you too take up your knife
But that is what I will do, rather than face an enemies strife
And they all took up weapons: child, husband, and wife

And so within moments, a whole Kingdom was dead
The lives of the people, from their bodies fled
Upon the cities ground, countless puddles of red
For so strong was their fear, with death did they wed

A few hours later, as all their bodies did rot
Into town rode the same Prophet, at a slow, cautious trot
It did not take long for him to find what he sought
For all were dead, as if a gruesome battle had been fought

The town was lost and its Kingdoms power gone
The once-King lay dead and empty sat his throne
Ah, but the twist, the Prophet did not come alone
Now it all came together, now some truth was shone

For with him rode a foreign King to whom he slyly spoke,
"My King, these people died soon after the morning sun awoke
Some madness took hold of them and their feeble mind's broke
And look, there lies the old King's body, dead under his cloak

I know not what drove these poor people to this evil end
Perhaps this was divine punishment for some horrible sin
Nevertheless, my Lord, I told you we would win
For the war is quickly won, when you fight already-dead men

So look, my King, and see that my vision was true
And, my Lord, I promise to serve only you."
And the Prophet's guile was hard to see through
And so the King would believe in whatever the Prophet would view

And so for many more years, that King would rule
Never realizing until too late that too he was only a tool
Only when his lips turned blue and his body grew cool
Did he realize he'd only been the Prophet's fool

And so we learn a scary lesson indeed
We encounter constantly those who mislead
So, dear reader, be careful whose words you heed
Be wary, my friend, not to let them succeed

So respect a King, for power have they
But be more cautious of those who direct the King's way
For you do not know who a King will obey
And you do not know who really rules at the end of the day

Nathaniel Ryan Dylan Mounce
Wednesday, October 3, 2007
© Copyright 2007 Nathaniel R.D. Mounce (rytir at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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