hated hun in guise of prole
winner’s wake compelled to troll
future signals deepest fear
sacred sister naught to hear
empty efforts thwarted soon
daily battles far from boon
shaky man from troubled child
seldom praised but soon reviled
stranger here his thoughts to bend
faded start to pallid end
kindest gods deny their backing
grandeur now be sorely lacking
none be hidden, none concealed
none to power, none to wield
tired phrases, less than splendid
mercifully, the joust is ended…
amen.
I really like this poem. The line “tired phrases, less than splendid” certainly sums up a lot of what is posted on social media these days, and why som many are turning away. Or, as you so eloquently put it in the next line, “mercifully, the joust is ended …. “
Should be “so many” not “som many”