THE GUARD IS CHANGING

 

A shift in the wind, a tear in the veil,

The heavy-handed kings grow frail.

The gold they hoarded, thick with rust,

Is turning back to barren dust.

For too long, shadows ruled the throne,

And claimed the earth as theirs alone.

They built their towers high and steep,

While promising the tired sleep.

But justice has a quiet tread,

A steady spark where hope was dead.

The keys are falling from their hands,

A quiet storm across the lands.

The guard is changing in the light—

The reign is taken from the night.

The crown stripped bare of greed and lies,

Now placed beneath untainted skies.

What once was stolen is returned,

From ash and fire, lessons learned.

The meek inherited what was lost,

No longer paying others' cost.

The righteous step into space,

With open hands and grounded grace.

The night yields slowly, but yield it must:

Kingdoms will soon lie in forgotten dust.

 

Thomas Theophilus© September 23, 2026