National Poetry Writing Month: Day Twenty-Five, "The Master and his Lieutenant's Mystery"

And then I saw him, kneeling in the sand,
Motionless as the Master issued devastating commands.
The lieutenant merely nodded, simple and without daze,
But there was a power in his eyes that shattered all sense of glaze.
Unlike the others, this soldier was aware,
And that alone is the heaviest burden to bare.
For the Master was a devil hidden in the guise of man,
And to control the minds of all was his ultimate plan.
For decades he has worked to manipulate the people’s cognition,
And those who defied he eliminated as opposition.

Yet here was a man, deep within his counsel,
That anyone of his like had come before was very doubtful.
Around him was politics and backstabbing aplenty,
But he stood out to me as some silent sentry.
If the Master saw what I saw, this man would surely die,
But he could not, and I ask myself why.
But for his eyes, there was nothing remarkable about him,
Like the others, his form was grizzled, bloodied and grim.
Then it struck me, that he thoughts are never spoken aloud,
And he does not carry himself like a person proud.
He takes his orders, foul as they may be,
And he executes them to the purest degree.

I understood in that moment why he stood out from his brothers,
For the truth of the Master had not yet within him been smothered.
He remembers the days of when we were liberated,
And knows the ways in which we can no longer be opinionated.
Then he looked at me and within a single breath,
And I realised that I too knew the truth, and this meant my certain death.