The Return Poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

Pawns of a nonexistence.
Blissed by myths...
And habits of repetition.

Enslaved by fear.
Kept in position,
And conditioned superstitions.

Seeded on a planet to leech,
To leave.
As these inhabitants await the return.
Believed by those of wisdom and capabilities...
A mental advancement has been achieved.
And those who were left,
Are living up to their potential.
Expecting this they are,
Upon their arrival.

'What is so funny?
Your Majesty.'

~Oh,
Nothing.
Nothing to share.
Just humored by my own thoughts.~