Bardic Satire

Bardic Satire

I saw a child playing
Wand and sword in hand
She was dreaming
Thoughts of fate and destiny
A golden crown adorned her head
Though others could not see it
A crown chosen not given

I watched as flowers fell
Bowing before her
Petalled faces kissing earth
On the end of her sword
Pushed down until they broke
Their beauty destroyed
Left prostrated on the ground
How many will bow
To her dreams and her sword

And what of the wand
Held aloft by her hand
Dictating her magic
To changes only she can see
Delusion wrapped in reality
Those who remained blind to her glamour
Rushed and shooed from sight

For now it is only daisies and poultry

But wary are we of that day
When grown as woman she stands
Armed and determined
Who will fall to her then
Who will be driven away
All this I saw
All this I pondered
As I watched this child playing
Wand and sword at hand