by Patriot Aitch
I had a vision of a far off world
Where rodents ran among the dusty streets
And plagued the gentle townsfolk
With their cruel pillage.
It seemed this dark eternal scourge
Had thrust upon the race of men,
From bushd and tufted fleet of foot,
Deceiving in their guile.
The deep despair befallen all mankind
Was meted out by buccaneering rats,
With bushy tails, that swarmed across
A once benign and fertile land.
Nightmare gorgons feared of nought,
The canopy of trees would echo
With their hideous calls, and scratchings
Would announce their awesome spectre.
Until a shaft of light sprang from
The dust of human desolation,
A call of such enchanting clarity
Rise up and shed the yoke of tyranny!
A silver paladin, halod, and with glowing lance
Points to the grey demonic horde
That shackled all through larceny and peril,
Deliverance is our gift to future souls
The cry to arms rang out above the battlefield.
The sciurine chatter from a thousand furry mouths
fell silent then became a wild demonic roar,
A tide of raucous rodents forward surged.
The champion was torn from steed,
His limbs rent from his trunk and cast away,
Among his hopeless calls for rescue and his sobs of agony,
A prayer for quick and sudden death.
The once enheartened throng that rose
In answer to his words of freedom,
Threw down their swords and fled back to their havens,
In terror hid and wept, held children close.
My reverie disconsolate as understanding comes.
This was no far off world but here! Utopia destroyed!
The evil vanquished not and twice as bad,
And now some idolise the rodent canker.
The sun sets on this saddened world where,
Held to ransom by the bushy hordes,
In dismal, sombre, melancholy rule,
Mankind in hiding still awaits salvation.