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Uncrowned Rulers

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The trees bow to an unseen master,
Apologizing for an uncommitted crime
Their apologies only seem to make him angry,
For he only roars louder

They groan and creak and whisper,
Uncertain of their future
In return he forces them still lower,
Trying to break that which doesn’t bend

They fight harder now,
Straining to stand up
He pushes and shoves,
Wasting his efforts

Blown out,
He retreats
He whispers and murmurs,
Plotting until the next time

The trees now freed,
Stand tall and straight
They are rulers of a kingdom,
Rulers still threatened




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