The Nobles and the Peasants
The errant hasty cavalcade of cavalry in splendid taste,
Parading shades of chivalry, a macho parody of waste,
The damsels chaste, with legs set free,
So easily they dance and show,
Such slender waists and supple skin,
Their bosoms heave in passion’s throes,
The knights so fine will pass the time,
With horses’ bridles, ladies fine,
Indulgent lives of drinking wine,
And giving naught to those divine,
They ride on wealth disparity,
Verily they come and go,
Ingratiate to those above and throw distaste to those below,
The peasantry is oft debased, but do the high like you and I,
Always reap just what they sow? Or is it us that always die?
Barbaric base brutality, the hordes destroy reality,
Pillaging the villagers, manhandling women callously,
The peace will come when people know,
That heaven lights the daytime sky,
A better place to them bestowed,
And answers to the ever-question why,
That even though they live and toil,
And bend and break with rocks and soil,
A higher way to lend to woes,
A final gate, the ends of throes,
While tyrants debate and come to blows,
Let go of hate! The pious ghost,
Initiates the mass’ host,
The late night passes, masters boast,
And last for laughter after most,
The World’s disaster is thrown aside,
And in their castles they hide in pride,
But the Holy Ghost is Freedom’s Cry,
And the people know they never die.
