Paupers Grave
Verily I say unto thee,
The subjects of kings are not free.
They answer to all the king’s court.
Submitting a yearly report.
If rulers own part of thy time,
With a tax on every dime,
Then thy freedom and liberty
Is a fallacious fantasy!
Canst thou even speak to thy kings?
Nay! Thou must speak to underlings!
Not to bishops, but to friars.
Not to knights, but only squires.
Thou art the pawns upon the board,
The playthings of the royal ward,
The cattle that fill their coffers,
Begging the crumbs their king offers.
Thou art the sons of slavery,
And the daughters of apathy.
And those who fought with bravery,
Must yield to thy complacency!
It is better to fight and die,
Than let fear cause thee to comply
With those who wouldst make thee their slave,
‘Til ye rest in thy pauper’s grave.
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