The Last Tyrant: A poem

 

The tyrant gazes at his subjects
who have grown rebellious

and defy his unjust rule.

The people are united in oppression

meted out to them by the Court.

The King sets to work his cronies

who do his lip service among the masses

but the people know better

than to hear their false words.

They see these cronies for what they are;

bigots, sycophants and intellectual thieves

who rob the people

of their hard-earned consciousness

of the will to freedom.

The King then sets his Armies to work

in the rebellious provinces where the armies

pillage, ransack and loot,

slaughter children and rape women.

Such a havoc does a king unleash

upon his own people;

all for power.

The masses then take a call to arms

against the tyrant monarch

and from the village to the cities

the people unite against crass injustice

Bugles of civil war sound all around

as the militia, in hordes charge the Army

with pitchforks, muskets, axes and bludgeons

overwhelming the king's men.

The King's empire, now, is about to crumble

and the King beheaded

Fearing for his life, the King flees

living his loyal subjects to die.

And each who ever sided with the King

is taken to the city avenue

where these traitors are displayed to the masses

and the blade of the guillotine

strokes their their necks clean off.

And people's rule comes at last

and subjects are subjects no more

They are masters of their own life

and servile only to virtues.