The Track of a Storm
A storm is brewing, slow, but strong
and those who do so many wrong
shall pay their price - and when the gong
does sound, they all shall fade.
And we shall axe, it shan't be long,
The palace's charade.*
On pompous thrones adorned with gold
they sit, so wrongly smug and bold.
They know no word for kind - So cold
and merciless their speech.
But soon their might as we foretold
cannot our purpose reach.
A storm is brewing, slow but sure -
Its last defeat shall be our cure.
Our tyrant's ways shall not recur -
our bolt will find its mark.
Their royal fate they shall incur...
we'll watch the skies turn dark.
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From the POV of an oppressed citizen before the French Revolution
- Title from The Tale of Two Cities.
* 'Charade' here (American) rhymes with fade.
Burns Stanza variation
Copyright © Sneha Rv | Year Posted 2016
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