His Throne was Built on Whispers
BY WILL DEMANBEY
There was a land of beauty
In a country far away.
Where people valued freedom,
And were happy every day.
Each citizen was their own judge.
No man begrudged his brother.
Wealth was spread out equally,
And neighbors loved each other.
But in this place of splendor
Was one called Mr. Gain.
He didn’t want to live in peace,
He wished to rule and reign.
So off he spun a master plan
To bring about his rise.
Sent his servants to all corners
Spreading rumors, doubt, and lies.
They whispered of a Dark One.
His head was crowned in flame.
They said he towered like a storm.
Unspoken was his name.
“He’s coming soon to conquer,”
They gossiped far and near.
They wondered how they would survive.
The land was soaked in fear.
“Is there no one who can help us?!”
The people did exclaim.
“We’ll give anything for safety!”
And up stepped Mr. Gain.
Gain said he’d protect them,
Only if they’d all agree,
To sacrifice some freedom
For their own security.
Forlorn, they followed blindly
As Gain led them astray.
He seized control of all the land
To keep “evil” at bay.
He taxed them every penny.
Enacted crushing laws.
Restricted public speaking.
Abolished Santa Claus.
But amidst the rampant tyranny
The rumors and the fear,
Creeping from the shadows
The Dark One did appear.
He was born of their imaginings.
Deceit and lies had given form
To a wicked monster crowned in flame,
Who towered like a storm.
And his throne was built on whispers.
His castle forged in claims.
His army stood a million strong,
Foul beasts with unknown names.
Like a reaper’s scythe upon the wind
He swept through field and town.
With death he filled the city streets,
And ripped the buildings down.
Gain sat upon his schemer’s chair.
He swore and cursed his fate.
“It isn’t real! Nothing but lies!”
And lies burst through the gate.
As the Dark One drew closer
Gain gasped out in fear,
“It is I who have made you!
I alone brought you here!”
“Your place is not to fight me,
But worship me instead!”
Then up came a twisted sword
And off went King Gain’s head.
So now the shadows rule the land.
What once was feared has come to life.
But something’s stirring, can you hear
A cry of hope amid the strife?
In the streets and on the corners,
From early morn to darkest night.
They’re talking of a coming savior,
A hero to restore the light.
Like a ripple in an endless sea
It moves through steel, and wall, and bone.
Reverberates in vacant halls
And echoes on a wicked throne.
And if the Dark One should beseech you,
“What are these rumors at my door?!”
You may answer, oh so simply,
“They’re merely whispers, nothing more.”