By Josef Lukas Palos, MA Creative Writing
From the Communist Manifesto, "The 'dangerous class', [lumpenproletariat] the social scum, that passively rotting mass thrown off by the lowest layers of the old society, may, here and there, be swept into the movement by a proletarian revolution; its conditions of life, however, prepare it far more for the part of a bribed tool of reactionary intrigue."
The fine endeavours of man are as nothing,
should he not be content to draw swords.
It matters not if he ply as sailor, poet or shoesmith;
For where dragons dance above their sickening hoards
their flames turn the dreams of men they view as lesser
into black dust, to be lost amongst times snatching wind.
The tears of those who till the earth and reap her crop
will suffer only to see their brother’s bones beneath broken halls.
For when dragons dance and exert the strength and fire of wealth,
their stomachs groan, jaws grind and talons clench.
Soon they trace tongue along keen fangs, spurred by the lust of hunger.
Come the hour when sheep and grain are devoured en masse,
yet the barest sliver of appetite remains unsatiated,
shepherds and farmers make a hearty next course.
So sit, and tell me now of the weight of swords.
For come the dragons dance I shan’t be confined to spectator;
Already have I known the fate of those who refuse to see,
I have seen the mangled remains of those who would only observe,
And I have heard the baffled words of those inept in action.
All inhabit shallow graves, marked by a lack of ambition,
and the unwillingness to draw swords.
Featured image: Epigram / Romina Treviño
Have you tried your hand at poetry?
