Old School Tie

Old School Tie

I'm standing in some woodland, with a lake and island in, 

Where a group of hooded figures, has started...gathering, 

They stand infront of ancient tree, with flames right by it's side, 

And murmer very quietly, that of mankind's demise.

But this will make no sense to you, unless I tell my tale, 

Of how this story's come to pass, with it's so secret vail,

It started off in '92, at college of great esteme, 

Where I'd just enrolled you see, 'twas was the place that you be seen.

My studies generally went well, though at financial cost,

And as the year did turn, and the sunshine turned to frost,

I started socialising more, and always wore my tie, 

As this was family heritage, though you may wonder why.

The tie you see, was old and worn, and came from times gone past, 

Given by my Grandfather, with a real long-term forecast, 

That if I wore this tie, it would make me some new friends, 

A certain type of person, which would pay great dividends. 

The folk that which he spoke of, where the elite of the elite,

That contained many people, that I really should go meet,

That came from families so old, who'd always been in charge, 

They might ask me to join their group, though it's numbers were not large. 

The tie itself was peculiar, and though felt old and tired,

'Twas made of rough hewn hessian, and an odd way it was wired,

I wore it to a function, and yes, lo and behold, 

I met another gentleman, who's tie was from same mold. 

We got on well together, and then from time to time, 

We'd meet up fellow members, who all wore that same tie,

And after a full year or so, I was granted membership, 

Of a secret old society, though it was drip by drip. 

Eventually, it comes to this, that I attended here, 

Upon an invitation, of a person I hold dear, 

He's the son of a famous man, you will know his name, 

But everything's so secretive, and I've not a lot to gain. 

We all set out to a special place, a sacred one I'm told, 

Forty of us, dressed in black, as if in times of old, 

Upon arrival at the place, we're made to don strange robes, 

from the lowest ranking member to the leaders of the globe.

For I've seen some people here, that you'd recognise, 

Politicians, bankers, heads of state, all wearing same disguise,  

And as we gather in the dark, I hear them murmering, 

Discussions and decisions made, what they're considering. 

And then the crowd does part, and I see my purpose here, 

As the hooded men are chanting, "The Sacrifice is Near",

And I'm brought on forward, to the base of that huge tree, 

The real truth of 'Old School Tie', now clear for me to see. 

For as I kneel and sob, before that wizened oak, 

I look up to largest branch, I can just see through the smoke, 

That six ties are tied together, And therefore they produce, 

Another item entirely, a long thick sturdy noose. 

They lift me up, and stand my feet upon a chair,

And tie the noose around my neck, and leave me standing there, 

And just before they kick the stool, I can't help wonder why, 

My Grandfather had wanted me, to join the Old School Tie.