Landslide

The poor, the weak, all those help who seek~whatever happened..not a sign
We waited and prayed and when it all had proven to be so slow, drew a line
Expected us to cave in, offering trinkets, things which like diamonds'd shine
And than the landslide by design or more, rotten at the very core…it had to happen…

Taciturn, seemingly “tactful” in watchfulness of her gory ways
Aim justifies means or whatever it all involves, entails
Seconds that erode hills at dawn, before the morn and who knows
Constantly losing ground, quicksand and the mire that explodes…

Guess what the whole world we called, when the dice they rolled, triggered the rift
Said won't take long, just a routine, but for their own gain wheat and chuff to sift
And then the end came, not all the same and then the end of it all came...
It was not the jester and the bard, or the soldier wit the shard who did not help
It was …yes you guessed…. the man from the realm of their dawn they'd spawned
                                                                                   ~and the whelp~

We called the men from different realms, some cared and many said yes
But the shock of all shocks came that many were not under the name you guessed
It's those in the long robes that did not care,those who collect the proverbial.shekel*
Those who mix pleasure and work and it lead to mene mene tekel….

At the end it was the men of pen and the press, it was the people of letter to readdress
It was the bard of a different kind those who sing about the world and its mess
Those who sang of the Castles of Glass, those who did not want to be the Pretender
Who stood against the weak, those in need to be put asunder and offered their help…

*shekel here is just a symbol for currency