Hic Jacet The Balance Of Power - Acrostic Sonnet Poem by Jonathan ROBIN

So the scene shifts at last, seventy years have past,
Only the nuclear threat tempers the joys we feel.
Vain seem toil, tears, and sweat, void the noble ideal,
Its principles the Past has swallowed. ‘Red’ is dead.
Errors were made, and vast, mainly by those who led.
There’s an important debt the Future may reveal: -
Hopes blossomed, goals were met through suffering and zeal,
Enlightened laws were passed, the poor were housed and fed.
Remember this forecast when free trade’s ugly head
Is raised, do not forget those freedoms which appeal
To us were won while yet most could not afford a meal.
And shall ‘progress’ outlast the need to butter bread?
Grant perspicacity to see how much we owe
Employing energy to help Tomorrow grow.

My thesis: far too fast the tide turns, cog-wheel tread
Against ourselves we fête in freedom’s name, - a wheel
Yet to unmask teeth, whet its appetite to steal
Basic rights still classed inalienable, and thread
Ever tighter nets entrapping liberty. We spread
Restrictions, chains we set ourselves and no ‘New Deal’
Expect. Russian roulette is played in a surreal
Gamble with living standards for those unborn, ahead.
Risks of atomic blast seem slender, but, instead
Ending the soviet may usher brash Bastille
That’s harsher than ‘Niet’ to bring mankind to heel.
Time’s bet at last is cast, - who’ll win once all is said?
Ecosystems now show pollution's jeopardy.
Democracy may grow its own worst enemy.