The murmurs cry.
The sorrow grows.
There is talk of war.
Around the people, they did mutter.
“The Emperor Is Naked.”
And the Emperor, he tightens. The Emperor, he sweats.
The Emperor, he talk and lies.
The Poisons all that he spews.
The Emperor he talks and Lies.
But the people wise, those who tried, they did try, indeed.
But this time, with post lessons of war, a new plan did arise.
We fought. We scream. We protested.
We rose and marched. We tried.
We followed red tape. We’ve obeyed.
And still the meek aren’t heard.
The meek they have revolted. The meek they have tried war.
The meek they have tried fighting. The meek they tried peace.
And now, with all the wisdom of the wars, what one thing have we not yet tried?
Helping each other. Banding together. Helping Ourselves instead.
“Their System was not made for us.
We can see the lies.
“The Emperor is Naked. And all their words are lies.
Emotions are quite Logical. America is not Free.
When Naricissists run a Country, the Blame becomes disease.
When you compromise Responsibility, the Blame is lost to Fear.
They made us dance. They wagged the dog. The lies can hide no more.
Where is the Promised American Dream that died with Salesmen?
Is this what the Old Man and the Sea tried to say to us?
Is this the world Ayn warned us against?
Huh, you shrug. “Who is John Galt?”
And down upon the Descent am I, Zarathustra Comes! Says I.
I am John Galt. The Dawn of Man it ends. Says all this… Says I.
Am I Story? Am I God? Only you can decide.
But the Emperor is Naked. And God is Coming. And she is Pissed.
And no… this metric made no logical sense.
I just wanted to try my hand at Epic Prose while trying to reinvent my own meter.