Friday, January 23, 2015

The Guardians

Behold the army marching down the street –
They march in steady rhythm to the beat
Of drums and people cheering. Colored flags
Precede these warriors, proud as autumn stags.

Their leaders, politicians, lead the crowd
With rhythmic chants, a promise they’re endowed
With virtue, knowledge, wisdom – shepherds who
Will lead the people, give them what they’re due.

Police parade along the bulging edge
The crowd creates – a sniper’s on the ledge
To scope the crowd, a crowd who’d praise the man
If they’d known he was there, and praise the plan.

The President steps forth, the crowd goes wild –
Each man and woman feels themselves a child –
“These guardians before you will protect
You all, we members of the few, select.”

The crowd, they swore their love to men who made
Their path through loving power and who’d wade
Through bodies if they had to just to rule –
But votes are a more cost-effective tool.

So long as humans love strong leaders, force
To get their way, and lies they can endorse
Because they tell them to themselves, each hill
Will find a flock to bend to someone’s will.

And they’ll lead the parade, the army aft,
As politicians steer this human raft
Who trust that they’ll get everything they crave
While marching to their lime-lined self-dug grave.

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