Last Days of the Median Empire
King Luxon distributed all the spoils of war
To his loyal retainers.
Then he realised he had one troublesome land
Left to hand over: The Median Empire.
He called forth General Lee, and offered her
Governorship of the Fourth Estate.
General Lee accepted with gritted teeth;
and rode off to take charge of her remote realm.
The General pushed across the Grim Desert of Hot Takes.
The General inched forward across the Tedious Plains of Wokeness.
The General was stung by hornets with barbed questions
About her competency as a General.
Eventually she came to the Median Empire.
But all was not well: the Empire was in flames
And had been overrun by Hordes of Barbarians.
The sophisticated People of Media were running in circles
Pursued by gruesome corporate HR scorpions
And Warthogs from the Swamp of Conspiracy.
Media nobleman Sir Patrick of Gower comes running up
Covered in burns and scratches.
“General! Don’t just stand there –
in the name of Lord, do something!” He pleads.
A Conspiracy Warthog drags him off
Back into the brutal melee.
General Lee looks around at her Realm
She had pledged to protect,
At the flames and the screeching
And the rampaging Warthogs:
Then she steps backward ever so quietly
And melts away
into the undergrowth.
Victor Billot has previously felt moved to write Odes to the Green’s Elf Queen, The Regent Seymour, King Luxon, and Lord Winston.
Now, on the horizon a new danger appears
As the dark Lords of Mordoch draw near.