They sought a king, they sought a queen, they sought
a happy potentate to rule with iron
fist. But came there none, because all were bought,
and paid with coin from a deep, dark, fathom.
Change, and change, and change, while nothing, no nought
is altered, but reality, a home
too fragile to leave to powers uncaught.
When all things crumble there’s no one to thank,
the world turns. Ruins are forgotten or
rebuilt into a reflection and drunk
down as a draught to reduce the terror
of knowing, from a golden past, we shrank.
In search of a future we can honour,
everyone is left drawing a blank.
Poem by stuartcturnbull, picture from RosZie on Pixabay.
This sonnet is my entry to the Dreem-WOTW contest for which the prompt was Blank
In form I have used a non-standard sonnet with two distinct stanzas which have a thematic connection, but can also be read individually. The rhyming scheme, ABABABA CDCDCDC, is also not a regular form for the sonnet.
The theme reflects on government. The first stanza considers the worry of seeking 'strong' leadership, where such would be leaders are funded from places unknown. The second stanza looks at how desired changes can lead to a future which is less than that hoped for.
The title 'Who Rules The Past' is borrowed from George Orwell's 1984. The wording is inexact, but the idea that those who frame the narrative of the past hold the power to influence the future is there.