Past the edge of patience the people long for change.
Alarm bells of the elders tipped the scales for the extreme.
Cry not for the outcome, invitations have been sent.
Now the time for reckoning has arrived on vulture wings.
The old will be swept away by the anger of the crowds.
Don the garments of the conqueror if you seek to survive.
The clothe will chafe and the manacles will burn,
but consider this will be better than the guillotine.
Dare not block the will of the master now awoke.
Consider their warning words spoke with harsh concern.
Revolt is promised by the one with the will to consecrate
destruction of the blasphemies fear deigns to populate.
The decorums of the past are rudely pushed aside,
no longer will the once majority play the victim's role.
Equilibrium demands greatness for the new minority,
God help those who choose to stand in their way.
Nothing will remain after this purge has been spent,
save for the wish to have turned another way.
Cry not the people, this wish was their command.
The world will shift upon the flap of vulture wings.
© 2016, Sean Green. All Rights Reserved, 20160316.