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


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