Split Sides

The Big Black Door of Power

There it is,
That brooding, imposing, and iconic symbol
Of global power and prestige,
That is a poisoned chalice to those who seek
To reside within the halls and rooms
Where such forces are exercised
And its effects felt far and wide
In every corner of the country and the world.
It's so deceptively simple,
Just a door lacquered in piano black
With the number 10 in bone white.
A menacing lion face door knocker
Cast in iron from a time in the distant past
Stares at you, daring you
To enter at your own risk.
Below it is a brass octagon knob
Right smack in the center,
A totem of the unseen forces it houses.
But don't be fooled, make no mistake about it;
That very door lies in the most famous address in the land,
Right in the beating heart
Of the capital city that's been dubbed
"The Center of the World".
The epicenter of what was once
The largest and greatest empire
Humanity had ever seen in its history.
Led by a select men and women
Whose fallible and imperfect hands millions of people
Have entrusted with their futures and their lives
For the prosperity and security and longevity
Of the historic land they all call home.
Generations past, present, and future
Have entered and left this simple yet hulking door
That's been a silent witness
To the seismic changes coming from and going to it,
Throughout the country and across the world.
The decisions made behind that door
Have reverberated around the globe,
From Yellowknife to Christchurch,
From Washington to Hong Kong,
From Cape Town to Moscow,
And everywhere else in between;
No place and person in the world
Has been left untouched by
The political, economic, technological, and social changes
Emanating from behind that big black door of power.
This has been accepted wisdom
For the past 200 years
And let there be no doubt,
Many more such shifts
Shall be decided and effected
By the people living behind that big black door
For the next 200 years and beyond.