The Supplicants

I have searched for the agents of cause
Have interviewed them all
Have listened to their supplications their affidavits
And stood in judgement like a muted Cicero
Before a cracked and dying senate
Straining for another minute
Til he get his voice back.

I have listened to the varied tongues the accents the twists
And lisps and knotted brows and gilded lips
And have gasped in awe before the thrones of eloquence
Made empty by even emptier men
And in the lucid interludes have wondered where I’ve been
Before the spinning thing slowed down
Only to crank up again.

So when the narrative makers slow down for tea
I wonder will they remember me
And remember you who held them true
And bent the knee and made their oaths your misery.

And when the end in painted rooms of solemn white looms
And lights are dimmed to hasten sleep
I wonder what promises will you keep;
What revelations will you conceal
When you stand up before you kneel.

© Rhett Talley