of the King
became of interest only to historians
for the revolution came as easily as kicking down a rotten door
the populace smelted his crown for scrap at the Mint, becoming profiteers of desperate fortune
the jewels of his Queen realised monies so poor that when pawned they were reduced to beggars
their precious raiments became gawdy rags in wayside shanties discounted to tourists raffled by a caravan of clowns
he became Citizen X and was lucky to gain that meagre rank in the new order
pilloried at the latest Court of Tyrants he became its fool yet not with the repartee of the Bard to match
the Queen herself was lost in a gulag and perisished
a number on a page incinerated and smoked in a camp harbouring hell in its ovens
disinherited Princes would lose any contest under radical new laws
their clever attorneys disorientated by a future with no references to past statutes and no precedents to qoute
the courtiers themselves scattered like pixels and their orders were as silent as space and carried as little weight as a delusion
meanwhile the planets rotated indifferent to the turmoil on earth
dynasties discarded as thoughts are forgotten in a heart beat …
Flynnpoetry 