Prison Planet

In another galaxy,
Far away from home,
Exists a small, yet pleasant, planet,
Occupied by prisoners.

What prisoners, you ask?
Oh, quite a variety,
I assure you,
Though they know no distinction.

To be sure,
They are quite ignorant
Of who they are
Or why they’re there.

These prisoners,
A laughable lot, indeed.
But for a few,
They’ve given up all knowledge of their past.

Their own kind now,
Quite freely, albeit, unaware,
Assist their very wardens
To keep others, and themselves enslaved.

Who are they, you insist?
There are those among them who,
In times gone by,
Had been known throughout the galaxies.

Some had been great warriors,
Others magnificent artists,
Many had been fine leaders,
And some truly guilty of crimes.

But one and all,
They each had a common flaw.
What flaw, you ask?
To act as he saw fit.

Oh yes, in days gone by,
There were those who faltered not
At walking down the path
Of their own choosing.