A History For Our Time (11/22/2000)

Our story begins in a land ruled by a king,
A kingdom, with knights and fair maidens,
And in this kingdom ruled by the king
Lived a lady of ill-repute. Her name, Monique.
Monique was a dreamy young lass,
And the king was here, in the middle of his life,
Married to his queen, her name was Helga,
And so he have the prelude to this history.

One day, the king found the young, seductive Monique,
And promised here his undying support
If she would perform certain royal duties for His Majesty,
All this he wanted, and which she all willing to do.
And in compliance with the king and his demands,
She played him like a flute, with his sighs the music,
And thus, this liason was begun, now on,
Between two people, one powerful, the other one no,
And the chaos really began spread
As we move forward in this history.

Well, the queen walked in one fateful day,
The queen lady you by the name of Helga,
And lo and behold! But what she ever would see
But none other than Monique going down on the king.
The breeze suddenly stopped, but the blood rush sped up,
And the king was no longer being tossed off in the wind.
Now, the king was thought a loving man,
Married, appeased with children, caretaker of all,
But now his heart will eventually come to play
More of an underlying role in this history.

Now Queen Helga, that damsel, that jealous thing,
She took a sword from the Crusade,
And struck down cold the fabled king,
Then she turned to the laciviously dutiful Monique
And muttered some unkind words,
Then she hacked her in half,
And down were two secret lovers.
Queen Helga panicked now,
For you see, she had committed murder to the highest degree,
And she knew this degree called for only one degree.
Helga, well, was doomed to become dust in the annals of history.

Helga met her end alright,
The end not so expected early on,
For she had assasinated the mighty king, such a crime!
For this, she would be comdemned to a beheading
All because she let passion get the best of her,
And yet that would not be all the problems she'll endure.
Monique's father was the tutor for the queen's children,
And he was mighty upset with queen's act of rage.
The schoolmaster took the royal children from the goals of light
To an eternal sleep, a journey into darkness,
All before turning the sword onto himself.
Now the kingdom, built on the principles of goodness,
Was no longer experiencing peace but strife.
It was apparent history had produced a civil war,
In which the victor would achieve corruption.

But it was not history's fault, the civil war.
Here you, my friend, must heed this simple word,
That dishonesty have before destroyed a kingdom,
Originally thought built on the principles of righteousness.
And as this poem comes to an end, I ask you a simple favor:
History goes one, so let's make it for our time.