Two crownèd Kings, and One that stood alone
With no green weight of laurels round his head,
But with sad eyes as one uncomforted,
And wearied with man's never-ceasing moan
For sins no bleating victim can atone,
And sweet long lips with tears and kisses fed.
Even in modern society, the ones who lose tend to be the ones who suffer the most. In this poem, this is the case, too.
A Vision