Coro.nation
Shelly Boughner
We’ve all been crowned
There was no ceremony
And no applause
The thorns prick temples and brows
Leaving small rivers of blood
These fruits that we’ve reaped
Are bitter and there is no wine
To soothe us
The road of history
Has dropped us here
Dragging the baggage of centuries
Facing the wreckage wrought by
The unending stream of humanity
Caught in the ongoing struggle to tame the earth
And rule the world
The fiddler is at the door
Demanding payment
Handing out scepters, banners, and royal seals
And the tiniest crowns, that aren’t even visible
He scatters to the wind
Like buckshot or gun powder
These small spheres robed in death
Are aimed at us all
And the anthem plays on
Even in deafening silence
God save the king