The Rain After the Reign

The following poem is barely out of first draft format and will be revised at a later date. I think this is to be the last poem I post without going through a fair amount of editing beforehand. This is inspired by one of Robert Lee Brewer's Wednesday prompts; I have promised myself I would try them more so here it goes. (The original prompt was After the Rain but I messed with it some.)

The Rain After the Reign

Exposed crimson sunbursts trail out to splatters
An absent-minded finger painter
Who thinks in several degrees of monotone
Decorating both ground and guillotine
Left his marks in pigment used
To sustain life in royalty

Should not the fluid be redder?
Glinting cruelly like deep rubies set
In a crown of battered, unwashed gold
Coins melted and molded from exorbitant tax
Luxurious pleasures hoarded by those who had
An undeserved throne beneath them

Patters of rain fell upon a writhing crowd
Rags of clothes clinging to weathered flesh
Shouts hoarsely reluctant to be raised
Found themselves among the pattering unabated
Wet roads carved into dirt-caked faces
Streaming freely before first drizzled drop

Would coming rain cleanse once-felt anguish?
A yoke tossed aside with first glints of sun had
Unburdened shoulders stretching independence
Masses dispersed going back to thatched huts
Crops will be harvested before day’s end
The new monarchy arrives tomorrow

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