Colin F. Jones

TOPPLE AND FALL

It came to pass that we were not all of one tribe,
The seeds were divided and scattered about:
We were all the same for the processing inside,
That to superstitions we were fearfully devout.
We carved up the land by making our claims
Appointing our Gods with great élan and pride,
Some made to serve in hardship and chains,
While those who resisted for honour they died.
The tribes they grew larger; borders were crossed,
Trade became power for the affluent and fat,
The multitude of cultures were forged at great cost,
Greed occupied the places where the warriors sat.
Thus killing and plunder in the name of their God,
Turned tribes into nations and bodies to sod.

The balloon soon inflated the pressure intense,
Demanded more land more materials and food,
Survival depended on much greater expense,
The procuring of weapons for defences and feud.
The multitudes grew and the multitudes fought,
Fuel for their engines grew shorter and rare,
In a spiral of repetition the warring nations were caught,
Behind the gold plated door the cupboard grew bare.
The belt was adjusted around the affluent waist
Obesity could not be sustained any more;
It was the turn of the mighty to acquire a taste,
For demonstration and riot, culminating in war.
Won at great cost it is with great cost that they fall,
For empires and conglomerates all topple and fall.