Capture The King Poem by Nicholas J. Roberts

Capture the King
In the Rhine
Through the valley,
Broken swords gather
To slave under soil.
Bring the flat hammers
Of god-given glory,
And say thou not how
That green stalk goes black.

Movement is Rich,
Corrupt as it's gained;
Move to your hell
Created by your friends,
Given in concentration
Down a line to all intensity.
Drink sweet rosy,
Breathe a deep rest,
Settle in sufferance,
Security past.

In all your world
You know not who
Broke in, and entered,
And by you grew.
Now it's the last time
You'll be scared,
More in Cauldrons,
Liberty bared.
Moreton insidiously
Sweeps off the frost:
Go back to where
All insanity's lost.