Clouds blacken o'er podium's farce
avowal mumbled, besmirched, dishonored
a liar's hand aflame upon a book of truth
as jackals cackle in the wings

Clouds darker still in the noonday gloom
the reciting rabble, “what is to become of us all”
this unreal thing set in motion
why must this albatross to wear

In the distance, the tolling, the darkest knell
piercing the wind and rain
to harp upon our ears like shattered glass
while the schoolyard bully smiles