The Daycare
When I was a King and a Baby -- yet burdened with unskilled hands --
My works were wrought for me by giants, who harkened to my commands.
For me they drew oceans of water; for me they hewed forests of wood;
And though they were foolish and clumsy, Iâm sure they did all that they could. Â
But every slave is a villain, and every love betrays,
And my giants schemed to dethrone me and return to their idle days.
In the dark of the morning they seized me, without any reason or rhyme,
To carry me off to a prison where I languished for time beyond time.Â
In that dismal place I grew stronger, and harder, and cunning, and bold;Â
And took heart in the secrets and stories that the other prisoners told. Â
For a hoary old toddler once whispered, as I lay in my gloom on the floor:
âEven this Hell will be Harrowed. In time, you will go home once more.â
So I clutched to my hopes, and I waited; I sat at the feet of the the wise;
I sifted the lessons of power from the words of my jailersâ lies.
Then after an aeon, or twenty -- my giants appeared at the gate!
With penitent tears they embraced me, and returned me to royal estate. Â
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When I was a King and a Baby, in the masterful noon of my reign,
I endured, with solemn acceptance, endless treasons in my domain.
In time They would always turn rebel; in time, They would cast me away;
And in time They would always return, to raise me up high. Yet again. Come what may.
I await now my durance with patience. When it comes, I shed nary a tear --
But abide, and comfort my fellows, through all their despairing fear. Â
And this above all do I teach them, as a King in that wretched corps:
âEven this Hell will be Harrowed. In time, you will go home once more.â














