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Bereft of Monarchal Governance
There was a kingdom
Many years ago
One of which
History's records do not show
There was a ruler
Who stood in his tower
Watching all the peasants
With an absolute power
His words echoed down
His decisions were made the law
His prides and prejudices
Would dictate the cultural draw
One man rose on the outskirts
He devised a plan
He would find a way
To free his fellow man
So late at night
When the ruler could not see
He worked and toiled
To nullify the way that be
Using two collective jars
He stored the sun and the ocean
Then he had combined them
Into a very potent potion
The next day
When the ruler ordered work
The man came to the capital
Traveling through sand and murk
He shattered the jar upon the ground
The people now blind and deaf
The ruler could not control them now
That right was now bereft
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