The Island and the Flood
There once was an island, alone in the sea.
The people built a wall, as tall as could be.
Although they had issues, the island was free.
With a bit of control, as free as it could be.
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Except there was a minor problem, a fatal failing
Constant oppression was always prevailing.
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On this island were groups, living together.
Some become friends, others, oppressors.
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The People got together to oppose the elite,
Some met victory, others, defeat.
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Slowly but surely, social change progressed,
Although they strive, the People were still oppressed.
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But the oceans were rising, as they built their wall.
If their dams collapsed, the city would fall.
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The walls were maintained by an exploited group.
They unfairly suffered and were left out of the loop.
— — —
They were left out of power and political ruling,
Forced the serve masters while their own lives were grueling.
— — —
A flood was coming, and the walls needed support.
Without the will of the people, the Island’s days would be short.
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A cry went up, “why should we care?”
“Why should the city survive, when they won’t share?”
— — —
They pointed at the elite, upon their throne
Brutal and selfish, corrupt to the bone.
— — —
“Why should one laugh while the other must cry?
if the island is flooded, at least the elite will die.”
— — —
Some people said “no” and built up the walls,
“Resent feels good until the city falls.”
— — —
The People held back the flood and stood against Hell.
Although life was unfair, it was still good as well.
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And the People came together, at least as many as was needed.
The Island survived when the flood was impeded.
— — —
The People stood together and overcame their strife.
They tried to get along and build the Good Life.
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With the shared aim of goodwill and hearts for prosperity and peace,
The people tried to be Good, and slowly, the evil ceased.
— — —
They were good to their families and good to their friends,
And good to their enemy while making amends.
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They were good to themselves and did what they knew should be done.
Although it was hard, each challenge was won.
— — —
Though their names are lost, their values survive,
in ancient wisdom that makes cultures thrive.
— — —
There’s no higher pursuit that of good disposition,
And the responsibility to bring Good out of any condition.
— — —
As stories of old were understood.
Extract the gold and make it good.
