The Dance Macabre

by Steven Parris Ward

  Who greets the haunted shadows of the wood as long lost friends,

  And lends with her extended arm a measured solitude,

  To all who seek with her embrace dreamless oblivion.

  Who knows not how to marry with her suitor named the Day,

  That clambers from the sleep filled ruins to great activity,

  But teeters on the brink of sight, her home the cold abyss,

  Which is the lost horizon of improbability.

  And dreams which pass likes spectres formed,

  Create a new dimension,

  Invoking in their vividness a rich reality,

  And dreams portend the future, but are fragments of the past,

  Forgotten expectations and lost experience.

  Amidst the breaking light of dawn I then awoke to see,

  Before my weakened, sleep filled eyes a graven effigy . . .

  And there within an august tomb,

  upon a throne of marble rock,

  There sat a frowning statesman,

  Twice King of his domain.

  His name engraved was Abraham.

  Shall kings who sacrifice to him,

  Or invoke his name in their great wrath,

  To quell the murmuring masses voice,

  now be avenged and punished?

  The restless dead who toiled for truth and laboured in the barren soil,

  Who died for liberty and rights to forge a constitution,

  Are spectres for his wicked lies,

  To justify why thousands die,

  Those spirits cry,

  their voices retranslated lie unheeded.

  I knelt before this deceased king unconscious of the fact,

  That through his mouth the presiding king did speak and think and act.

  (The Foolish King):

  I am the King of this domain,

  A true and fair Republic,

  And all who question or refrain to acquiesce to freedom’s claim,

  Shall feel the dread and awful might,

  The bloody force,

  Of my right hand!

  I am upon a holy quest to free the tortured and oppressed,

  From madmen who might overrule,

  Or seek to vanquish or restrain,

  The justice found in freedom’s gain.

  Achieving through my fearful might,

  The guiding law of wrong from right,

  Requires an iron will in war,

  not rhetorical persuasion.

  I scare the strong and love the meek,

  As countries quake beneath my feet,

  I spread the tidings glad that all.

  Shall benefit from freedom.

  A liberty where all can buy,

  an ethic which swift nullifies

  the masses and thus pacifies,

  All credible objections . . .

  ’pon bended knee (a penitent’s pose) I asked in supplication,

  To tell me in whose name the King determined wrong from right?

  (The Foolish King):

  In God’s name son, in God’s name,

  I hear His inner voice,

  Bless-ed are my actions as He sanctions every choice.

  (The Voyager):

  Is man or God the measure then of what is right or wrong?

  If it be God then how does this exert an influence?

  If man is but the measure then,

  and you perceive the truth,

  Opposing thoughts undermine your laws

  and a tyrant surely rules.

  In order to enforce strong rule in your autocracy.

  I remembered then that Lincoln (meditating on God’s will),

  Asked a simple question

  (which holds some relevance still):

  Doth the will of God in truth prevail in every single act?

  If in contests great each party claims to act by God’s desire,

  Then both may be, and one must be,

  assuredly in the wrong.

  Wise men and women live their lives by measuring their visions,

  With counsel drawn from fellowship,

  so discussion yields the proof.

  Through godly claims one man may rule,

  which boosts his own opinions,

  But one man rules in tyranny,

  as the Guardian of the Truth.

  The frowning statesman responded then in deep exultant tones,

  Of war and all the spoils and pleasures of his next campaign.

  (The Foolish King):

  Who would deny that I the King should march throughout the Persian streets,

  And hail my conquered subjects with a strong and grave salute?

  Upon the vanquished’s throne I’ll sit,

  and call my counsellors’ advice

  foolhardy as I strategise my next triumphant battle.

  Peace shall not quench my heated blood,

  I long to slay with flaming swords,

  all those who will not hail my name,

  and to my will be pliant.

  Give me the map so I might find the next and choicest foreign land,

  And soon the world shall in my hand become my prized possession.

  Princes, Statesmen, Caesars, Tsars and all of great humanity,

  Shall come to worship at my feet and beg for my advice,

  And I shall them bestow with grace,

  if the great and noble know their place,

  And punish those who please me not with swift, remorseless vengeance!

  From this I realised that he who was perched upon the throne,

  Who treated statesmen as his puppets and used his ministers as drones,

  Acquired the garb and title proud, but in truth was just a sham,

  (The Voyager):

  You are no President of God. You are not Abraham!

  My timid voice did muster strength as I with fortitude did seek,

  the affirmation of my charge,

  my gracious comforter.

  As she did nod a single time the courage strengthened keen,

  so I no longer felt compelled to rest on bended knee,

  But stood as all men should, upright and took my timely gaze,

  Upon the face of he who claimed all interests for his name.

  (The Voyager):

  No man, nor King, nor President should seek to overrule,

  The mandate of the people’s will unless he be a fool!

  The King with narrowing eyes did spit a bitter reprimand,

  At this outrageous comment,

  From a stranger in a foreign land:

  Be silent chimp, and know your place!

  Do you dispute the fact?

  That I alone do wield the truth,

  and through a higher pact,

  commune with God,

  and therefore know precisely how to act.

  Whilst you are but a common voice,

  I represent the truth,

  which justifies my role as Chief,

  based on my inner proofs!

  My blessed Spirit then did seek to timely intercede,

  And with good sense relieve the King of Godly reveries:

  A mandate from the people,

  requires a separate Church and State,

  to ensure that Kings or Presidents,

  who proclaim to know the weight,

  And letter of the law is best determined by their measure,

  Shall find no power in Godly claims,

  or dictate that courts should ever,

  Concede their power to whims or wiles or trumped up justices.

  One truth men freely hold to be fundamental and divine;
r />   that all are created equal and have the right to express their minds,

  based on their equal natures they derive inherent rights,

  Inalienable and sacred,

  Which overrule the tyrant’s might.

  The basic preservation is of life and liberty,

  And the pursuit of human happiness,

  This is the hallmark of the free.

  But the Foolish King was deaf and dumb,

  The Foolish King was blind,

  Hearing only what he wished to hear was the counsel of the wise,

  The Spirit’s words which there contained great wisdom to impart,

  Fell silent on his greedy mind,

  and in his soul and heart,

  He listened to his voice of God which he himself had conjured,

  To justify the merits of his great inequities.

  The Foolish King did then extend a gnarled and knotted finger,

  As if his skill and cunning from his mind he sought to flex,

  And banish and extract within me any doubts that lingered,

  By adding to each word and thought a stronger emphasis.

  (The Foolish King):

  No man nor woman, boy or girl would admit the dreadful price,

  Accept a war of profit waged to extend a rich king’s vice,

  But listen boy

  (the King did hiss with unrestrained glee),

  I’m not the fool that you in anger make me out to be,

  For I devised with some men’s help an ideology,

  To elevate the baseness of my war’s inequities,

  And thus ensure good profits for my ailing companies.

  (whispers)

  So that the greater good might be achieved eventually!

  Imagine that one bright clear day,

  in the mantle of the Fall,

  A cruel and hideous crime took place,

  which shook the faith of all,

  Upon the very land which I in peaceful industry,

  Had sought to rule with justice and earnest sincerity.

  A band of cruel and wicked men who proclaimed their God as King,

  Through fire and force should maim and kill,

  Destroying everything,

  Which symbolised the wealth and power of all that was our freedom,

  And by that act would set in course a long protracted war.

  No obstacle within their path would thwart their cruel endeavour,

  For at that time my forces would be busy in the West,

  So that the cruel atrocity would always live forever,

  Within the minds of citizens,

  they should not fail their test,

  But carry out their shocking crime with true duplicity.

  Like eagles soaring from the pure and reifying heavens,

  They then would swoop upon their static prey with swift precision.

  Condemning many innocents within the temple’s heights,

  To lose their lives on impact at the force of the collision.

  And quicken those observers left to fight the greater fight,

  To call for arms in sorrow and to flex our greater might.

  Imagine what an outrage there would be at such an act,

  Senators would sympathise,

  and sign to any pact,

  Which I or my good colleagues thought might stem the threatening tide,

  And all within the respected name of more security.

  The safety of my people would enable through great fear,

  Compliance from the critical so all the world would hear,

  The new and growing message which my ministers would preach,

  Of the need to trample out the plans of the evil terrorists.

  And with this lever in my hand I’d ratchet up the pressure,

  And put in place a system which controls the populace,

  For sometimes they do turn deaf ears on what should be the measure,

  And seek to instigate their views invoking my displeasure:

  As if the common people understand complexities!

  With this in mind it would then be a fairly easy task,

  To persuade my loyal subjects to re launch my battle crafts,

  To seek the vicious murderers who sought to kill and maim,

  And instigate a war abroad perpetrated in God’s name.

  (A whispering counsellor):

  To assist in this endeavour add some thermate to the blast,

  For the fire from the colliding planes would not ensure collapse,

  The molten steel can be disposed by shipping overseas,

  All of the damning evidence,

  to the eastern territories.

  (The Foolish King):

  Consider all the profits that would surely come about,

  Insurance claims from buildings lost and then projected costs,

  The initial war’s expenses would be met by taxes fair,

  Then invasion of the country,

  once it was determined where,

  The terrorists had hailed from would be off set by the heist,

  Of siphoning the oil reserve and the escalating price,

  Of arms and private armies which I of course do own,

  Would ensure that if the war endures,

  a profitable return,

  Could be expected if the war outlasts my sovereign rule,

  And I would then extend my power,

  but purely fiscally!

  In truth it does not matter if the country fits the crime,

  If they be wicked Muslims any country which may lie,

  Towards the East may serve to be the sacrificial lamb,

  As long as its replete with oil,

  (Its essential for the plan).

  And if I rid the people there of a wicked treacherous leader,

  Who ruled with ruthless tyranny and murdered kith and kin,

  Then all so much the better,

  It will fortify my whims,

  And lend a moral aura to my credibility.

  The people there will welcome us,

  the battle shall be swift,

  At least that’s what they will surmise based on the sudden shift,

  Of power which would of course result when the great invasion ends,

  And all the people in the region hail us as their friends.

  A pity then that we shall need a long extensive war,

  So that the companies I own can grow commensurately.

  Maintaining economic rule and strong hegemony,

  Shall be the prime directive of our ideology.

  As you perceive my higher aim rests not on fame or glory,

  Or profit which would there arise from taking all the land,

  I have the education of the people there for surely,

  The virtues of our culture must be given every chance,

  To wipe their minds of all the horrors of their recent past.

  I do this for the greater good to keep my solemn pact,

  That all shall know the wonder of the ethics of the free.

  And with our great advantages a global territory,

  Will be carved out and all rogue states destroyed eventually.

  I, Yes I,

  would help those men to desecrate my soil,

  So that the world might witness more the glorious majesty,

  Of the multi corporate fascism designed to set men free,

  Or at least ensure that order reigns with more autocracy.

  And all the world would swift accept the unity of one,

  That treats men’s lives and property as pawns within a plan,

  One world, one king, one government,

  in a pro
jected century,

  Along this path the corpses of a dead democracy.

  (The Voyager):

  Thank God you do not have the time to launch this evil plan,

  I voiced with disapproval at this awful fantasy,

  Elected as you claim to be your power must run its course,

  Ensuring that the people’s vote must overrule your force.

  At this the King a hardened smile did mock with cruel laughter,

  At this informal criticism and my lack of diffidence,

  As if he found delight in those who failed to see the truth,

  Blinded by the certainty of unworldly innocence.

  (The Foolish King):

  You dreamer do you think that those elected pull the strings?

  They too are simply puppets of a great conspiracy,

  Which in its wake ensures that those who own the banker’s purse,

  Are at the very apex of a hidden hierarchy,

  But which in turn selects who will be given as their choice,

  Every chance and privilege to hear the people’s voice,

  Adopting for the public face administrative endeavours,

  Whilst passing fixed agendas and decided policy,

  For those who built their pyramids and corporate territories.

  One vote for every citizen I spoke with great assurance,

  How can you claim that this occurs in this democracy?

  When all the votes the people cast are scrutinised and counted,

  You surely aren’t suggesting that the ballots counterfeit?

  Or that some multi billionaires hold dominion of this Earth,

  And through their will determine who will lead the populace?

  Or that elected presidents are kings who rule from birth,

  Selected by some blood line law of genealogy?

  The King then smirked and rolled his eyes in brusque indignity,

  As if the task to free my mind of such naivety,

  Was an irritating burden and a rank absurdity: