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Gabriel, King of the Land of Ice and Snow, Part 2(poem)

No one could have a chance
when they are still around.
Taking and taking mercilessly
from the poor-built ground.
They say you can't have a country
without working class,
but how can it be when they're placed last?

From far away, he could hear them,
muffled in their cries.
Neglected by a higher faith,
his people bore hatred toward the wise.
It was nothing he could do now,
nor try as he might,
yet he understood and realized
this was not the end of his plight.
His people were his family, his pillar, his strength,
the reason he still could exist.

"I am Gabriel", he said quietly to the wasteland below,
"I am the king of the Land of Ice and Snow".

Spoken words were his purpose,
the motive for this fight.
The people in this frozen land
needed one to be the Light.
A light so radiant it could change,
parting darkness from its hallowed range.
Yet they did not expect a poor child from the slums,
a man tempered in the projects,
a youth who seen funerals wrought by guns.

And what he felt could not begin to justify
was what his subjects did create,
a world filled with insercurity,
the very notion of hate.
Yet he knew as he watched the land thaw,
and melting snow saturated the dry breeze,
the actions within his mind,
those of what he knew,
where the essense, the embodiment
of the things he wanted to come true.
The dreams he forged within a year
were snatched from his grasp,
and in his heart, vengence and love
were all his compassionate ears could hear.