Once in the land of As Is,
when the sun was highest in the sky,
And the mountains seemed at their peak,
and the flowers their fullest.

The land began to crack
and no one knew why?


Council men were selected,
elected by the people,
To find the cause of the break and seal it,
To somehow, heal this fine line,
this land ache.

Wild promises were made and perhaps some men tried.
But, still the break continued ripping through the land,
the countryside,
And frightening everyone,
Fear, no one could hide.

Coins were collected
over and over from the peasantry for the King.
And the burden of it all,
took its toll,
until -
They the villagers were broke and broken
and left to be.

And the King said more money
we must have more.

And the woodcutter, the candlestick-maker and the baker,
turned away,
for they had no more to give.

Now, the crack still remained
and poverty spread.

Food costs too much,
when there's nothing to barter,
and then no one gets fed.

And all at once it seemed -
As Is had turned into some dark road
that had left them blind,
like a merry-go-round whirling in darkness
and the hopeless crow crowed.

The flowers began to wilt
it was something in the air.

And the sky was on fire,
and the mountains wasted away,
And no one cared about the break in the LAND so, much.

As the streams dried up,
as did their empty cups.

And there was Nothing to share
except their dark despair.

And the King said more money
we must have more!

February 6, 1971

By Lady LaMythica (Linda A. Copp)