Threads: The Butler Did It

 06/09/24

 

  

 

In cobwebbed corner 
Sits butler grey, 
Waiting for words 
To give him a way.

The room old-wooded 
No longer gleaming, 
In a world's twilight 
Come rays last streaming.

No thought is given 
To what comes after, 
Next room over 
Billionaire laughter.

The cry to be rich 
When the heart is poor, 
Smugly slamming one's
Own prison door.

How Pyrrhic the win 
These trappings of power, 
To be left behind 
In freedom's hour.

The arriving dawn 
Spares no one its light, 
To win surrender 
The loss is to fight.