The Scrying Pool

Author’s note: This poem was written for some competition with its theme on Dystopia/ Utopia. So, being me, I chose Dystopia, but not because I’m not positive or something (: Anway, hope you enjoy it. It’s quite straight- forward and simple… And I thought it would be unique if I wrote it in question and answer style, so there. Preferring historical fiction over science fiction, I went into the past instead. A poem that records a conversation between a King and his soothsayer/ fortune teller.

The Scrying Pool

Look into the deep pool,

And tell me what you find

Make me not a fool,

For I cannot be undermined

Are the hearths still glowing warm and bright?

Are my people still flourishing with pride?

Do they smile with flushed faces,

Their laughter leaving echoing traces?

Does the spring harvest still abound?

Are the crops growing whole and sound?

Is the grass still a forest green, the sky a sapphire blue?

All these, I beseech you, to tell me the truth

For I need to allay my fears and be soothed


Sire, you ask many deep questions,

That I wish I didn’t need to answer

This scrying pool tells no deceptions,

And I shall reply with no ardour:

The fireplace is bleak and cold,

There is not a sound nor a soul

The people stare with empty gazes,

The air is as frozen as frosty glaciers

There is no life bursting forth from the ground,

As all has withered and turned brown

A mere shadow of colours remain,

For the peoples’ blood, flesh and bones,

Have been replaced by metal and stones



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