Circa 888

Alone in the night, they gather ‘round the grave

bawling with empty bellies to brine bones in blood

Cacophonous keening marks this loss just as

disillusion and despair define these dark ages

Ever mindful of mourning that fills each morn,

false hope conjures a fruitful future 

Grim circumstances captured with each groan,

happenstance and poor health fill each beggar’s plot

Indeed, hardship is endemic in these times

just as is the inevitably early death all around

Knights, lords, and bishops offer no solace — every  

life is lonely and hard fought 

Manors up on the hill hold riches most will never see

Noblemen, with their feisty gatherings, host feasts most never taste

Opulence describes riches most can’t possibly imagine 

Pity, even pity, is not spent wasted on them

Quests for a better way go unanswered

Requests for relief go unheard

Schemes for a better way go undone

The system of inequity frames this time and for the

underprivileged, this way of life cannot be escaped

Village leaders cannot survive without them

Wars waged on their behalf cannot be won

Xysts that protect against heavy rains cannot shelter these poor

Yearn as they do for more,

zealous masters will never relinquish the serf

Image by Nadine Doerlé from Pixabay 

prompts: OctPoWriMo 2020 Day 16, Sunday’s Whirligig

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