The Confluence (Kings and Queens)

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At the confluence
a collision of worlds
Man’s influence
unravelled, unfurled

The king weeps
for the queen’s embrace
But when she comes
it’s but a toxic waste

The people, they bemoan
a time now gone
The times they thrived
in spite of earth’s scorn

The mountains
they gouged.
The trees
they felled.
The skies
they polluted.
The rivers
they held


The sulphur, the haze, it rose in thick suffocating clouds.
In noxious nights and lightless days, the people, they drowned.

They persevered and suffered for kings abroad.
Kings that built towns for queens they abhorred.
In one breath, they cried for her tender care.
Her water is our life; her tears we share.
But when her womb dried and there was nothing left to give,
they left…

Just as their fathers always did.

These days, only the scars remain
battleworn peaks run bare with hellish stains.
The people carry on,
they are a strong sort
No more kings and outsider scum,
They take care of their own.

Inherited trauma runs thick,
as does the blood,
but water is thicker still.
The queen’s life they have shared
And that is their bond.

At the confluence
a strange little place
Dilapidated shells
with colourful exteriors

It takes all kinds to build a village.

At the confluence
No more kings and queens
No more tears
No more pain
No more waiting for better days

Because in spite of earth’s scorn,
she always takes back what’s hers.

"The Confluence" where the Queen and King Rivers meet near Queenstown, Tasmania.
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