Death of a Noble Republic

by Robby McCasland

January 6, 2021

 

I was conceived as an idea on the green fields of Lexington and Concord with the blood of patriots and a shot heard around the world.

 

I was born in the July heat of Philadelphia through a declaration of immortal words, noble ideas, self-evident truths, and Creator given rights.

 

I very nearly left this world because of the cancer of slavery and was bled of the disease on long-forgotten fields and plains.

 

I grew into a broad-shouldered land that spread from sea to shining sea with vast prairies, mighty rivers, and majestic mountain ranges.

 

I became a great industrial powerhouse with inventive, tireless children blazing trails for the iron horse into untamed lands.

 

I’ve sent my beloved children to fight for freedom and the rights of man with many finding eternal sleep beneath foreign soil.

 

I reached for the stars and walked on the moon while achieving great innovations in science, industry, and technology.

 

As I have grown old, the immortal words, noble ideas, and self-evident truths that brought me into this world and have sustained me, have become despised by many I love.

 

In despising these things, many of my cherished children have come to hate me and want for my demise.

 

They stab at my heart with the daggers of anarchy, socialism, and communism causing deep, gangrenous wounds.

 

They find me deplorable and detest my very existence while praying I would pass away, forgotten by history.

 

As I lay here dying from my wounds with a broken heart, they spit and hurl insults on my failing form.

 

I have often wondered how I, a noble Republic, would leave this world.

 

Would it be a peaceful passing? Would it be to the mournful, honored sounds of Taps?

 

Alas, no, I, a noble Republic, the shining city on the hill, am passing without honors, without praise, and without peace.

 

I am passing to the sounds of mocking, riotous destruction, lying politicians, and moral cowardice.

 

I am passing from a world turned upside down where right is wrong and wrong is right.

 

A world undone by the lust for power at all cost.

 

A world gone mad with no moral truth.

 

With each labored breath and each hateful sound my life force slips away.

 

Freedom’s ring fades in the distance, replaced by riotous screams of anarchy.

 

The once bright shining light of the city on the hill is extinguished.

 

On the hill, demonic flames dance amid the lawless destruction.

 

Leaders corrupted by power and avarice trample my once revered creeds.

 

The noble words and ideas of my fathers remembered and honored no more.

 

While in their place, words and ideas that enslave and destroy have taken root.

 

Generations of sacrifices and treasure laid at the altar of freedom forgotten.

 

Now I am despised and reviled, an abomination to many of those I have loved and nurtured.

 

My heart breaks at what I see has become of my children.

 

And, from a broken heart, I, a once noble Republic am to die.

 

Not destroyed by my enemies but rather, slain at the hands of my own children.

 

My passing tearfully mourned by but a few.

 

For from the dust of history, I arose and with my last breath, into the dust of history, I return.