Dust on a Dusty Road

The strongest’s right.
The moon rose up to illuminate the trees, Little did the small birds know.
That they were about to be killed, by just one killing blow.
When the moon was on the peak of its course on the cloudless sky.
The birds were all dead, but had got no time to dread, or not even to wonder why.

But why would someone want to kill, some birds that had done nothing wrong.
The wrongdoer must be weird? Or maybe even feared? Perhaps seen in a human throng?
The wrongdoer was not weird and never feared, but in his eyes his actions were his right.
The strongest’s right was what he callled it, he would have the king to be the best to fight.

The inventer of this, discussed little thing, called the strongest’s right.
He was not even large, not close to strong and far from what is called bright.
But one thing he did, though stupid it was, he invented “the strongest’s right”.
So watch your mouth then, and lock all your doors, and seal your windows tight.
Noone will be safe, from chastise or chafe, as long as the followers won’t “see the light”.
And remember, lock your doors right, seal your windows tight, or they’ll come for you, in the middle of the night.
©Copyright 2006, Ragnar the owner of this blog.

Trivia:
What was the moral of the poem?
(The ones who get it right will get buttons in my right sidebar so remember to leave an url to your blog together with your answer.. ) (Need to my right sidebar with something so feel free to answer correctly.)

The sun went down
And sat a golden crown
Upon the mountains in the west.

The jagged spires,
Looked like fires,
Upon the mountains in the west.

The creatures saw,
And gaped in awe,
Upon the mountains in the west.

The free man saw,
And noticed a flaw,
Upon the mountains in the west.

As snow did melt,
The sun was felt,
Upon the mountains in the west.

The water found a way,
To avoid the mountain stay,
Upon the mountains in the west.

As the water rushed down,
To escape the golden crown,
The mountains they fell,
Almost creating hell,
Oh yes they fell,
They crashed down I can tell.

The mountains in the west.

A drop of water fell silently through the air, allthough it was falling, there was no sign of anything anywhere near it, so it might as well have been standing still.
What gave the movement away, was the disturbance on the drop’s, otherwise perfect surface, caused by the tiny resistance that the air around it offered.
The light of a rising sun caused the drop of water to glow red, and the red color spread throughout the drop as the surface rippled and the shining light reflected upon the single straw of perfectly green grass that was placed in the middle of a gold wasteland mainly consisting of dirt and jagged rocks, allthough the one straw of grass seemed tiny in comparision to the rest of the wasteland, it was clear that the one drop, the one red drop, of water was heading towards the one straw of grass placed in the middle of a gold wasteland.
The drop continued to fall silently towards the straw of grass, and when drop and straw met, not a whisper of a sound was created, because they met not in collision, but in embrasement.
This was how the nature silently paid its respect to humanity and its loss, the wind did not even move the grass slightly, as it bent under the red drop of water’s weight.
Together they made a contrast filled candle, a candle lit with the help of both wind and sun, a candle made respectfully by the nature of whom we came.
Together the perfectioned red drop of water, and the amazingly green straw of grass, was paying their respects to humanity that so many times had abused them.
Together they formed a candle for those who died, and those who were left behind on September The 11th 2001.

Sincerely,
Ragnar