Black tides and idle strides
A shore that's far from home
Another gem dropped into a greasy hand
For rights to freely roam.
A fee on towns and broken streets
Even beggar's box is mortgaged
debt and downturn overlooked
For the rich aren't eating poorridge.
Starving is deathly quiet
It sounds like brooms sweeping up
The hungry would cry, if hungry enough
Kings laugh into their cups.
Visitors that never leave
once entering the gates
are robbed of all their shillings
"Taxes for the state!"
Soon the hungry gather crumbs
of rage and seething discontent
Merging as one in shambled streets
They come to take it all, hell-bent.
It starts as small tinder
flames begin to lick the stones
baked them in an oven of their own design
pebbles and rotten bread thrown.
Tired of stomach pains
and sleepless, hungry nights
finally, the masses rise as one
and wage a brazen fight.
A war on the wealthy rulers
their knights and jesters, too
Leaving their common man to starve
is a call they came to rue.
We hope you like what we brought to the Blockchain today! Please leave your comments and feedback in the comments, we love to hear it!
Stay tuned to our page for Microscopic Mondays, drone shenanigans, poetry, 360 VR footage, 3D prints, and the occasional chuckle!
