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.”

 

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