The Watchmen

In their marble towers the lords of men sit
Watching, always watching, the lives of
The people they lord over. They hold us
Transfixed, like butterflies on a pin
They laugh as we live and die, love and hate
They do not comprehend us, these once-men
They are the Watchers, the Watchmen
They stare, waiting for humanity to cry for help
Their faces are indeterminate, changing on a whim
They see our great streets as gutters, full of debris
We are naught to them, these gods-among-men
Yet they live among us, as one of us and we do
Not see. Perhaps that is why they watch and we
Ignore all save that which immediately concerns
Us, the pathetic remains of a fragmented humanity.
One day we laud them and thank them, the next
We riot, causing them to come down from above
And control, as they always do. For they are the
Watchmen, and they await the end.

They are the Watchmen. They saw all.
Now their towers are ruins. They were right
We would need them, and now that they
Are gone we need them more. They laugh
From the heavens above, as we beg
And they whisper “No. We shall not help.
We only watch. You say you need us not,
So we shall no longer help you. It is yours”
And we weep, as our cities are destroyed,
One by one we destroy each other, and
They but watch, for that is their job.
We made them pathetic shells of
Themselves, we made them what they are.
And when all hope is lost, they will laugh.
They shall have the last laugh. For as they
Were first, they shall be last. They alone
Were brave enough to stare into the blackness
Were strong enough to resist the dark.
They are the Watchmen.
They see all.

If they are the Watchmen, who watches over them?