Before the Reunification Wars

  A tattered coat draped on a chair,

  Its thinned wool creased indignantly,

  Upon its shoulder hangs the shield,

  A pointed star of polity.

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  Brass buttons show it was fair,

  In a day of history,

  But now it hangs in its own place,

  Furniture for family.

  Then in the wind between the trees,

  A wooden folk watch patiently,

  Their branch-like eyes see past the waves,

  Where lords brood to expand their sea.

  An old man sits down in his seat,

  On his tower's balcony,

  A watchdog from times long past,

  His ghost portends brutality.

  Author Unknown