Turning around from the face of the commons,
Dashing towards that figure of authority,
Viewing the cries of the summons,
Seeing the pleads of minority.
My thoughts run towards that mighty being,
Shouting and trying to uphold his priority
"The People Cry Your Name, Dear King",
He responds to my small majority.
He sets aside his staff of golden guidance,
Stands with fierce fiery sights,
"Ask what you may, which may be my people's repentance",
"My Lord, the damnation you have caused within the sight of these fights,
Shall be the reason of your subsidance".
He widens his mouth full of white assurance,
He steps down from his throne of authority,
"My son, you have cried the words of those fearful,
I give you this golden staff of guidance,
Along with this kingdom of damned fates,
Fix the wrong to the right,
And the people shall be in the harmony of their peace."
(The basic interpretation of this poem is that maybe in a school, club, organization, or whatever company may have people who are not willing to say an idea or thought to their superior, teacher, or leader that may be bothering them and one person may know of that issue and takes a step forward to say the words for that person or group to that superior with bold and brave standing. Whoever that superior or teacher was, was happy you told them of that issue. He/She asks you who is having this issue in the place of work, and tries to resolve anything that may help that person or group.)