The Cycle
Closed walls, walled hearts
narrow halls, hollow parts.
A man alone, set apart
Black Turnstone, hidden heart.
High throne, thin skin
lame stone, lean kin.
Dearly beloved, loving no more
Fiery covet, a rotting core.
Well wishers, dark deceit
Rich fishers, dainty feet.
Conceited heir, craving power
without much care, worse each hour.
Ragged mass, martyr claimed
rebels clash, rebels famed.
Peasant sits above all men
Cycle's over, start again.
This poem is about:
Our world