What a sin What a grave sin A fox in A sheep’s skin Echoing the mob’s Democracy-peace-and –unity- Packed wish Enunciating bright days They will soon relinquish, He touched In every credulous heart A sensitive cord, Cognizant, an all-out support To him They will accord.
True, he basked under Taps on the back To his expectation ten fold And laudations untold.
Nothing toothsome he left In the political rhetoric dish, With colorful diplomacy He adored To garnish, So he made many Their speculation To relinquish.
He also won the international Community’s “go ahead!” Abstaining from Their customarily “We are afraid!” They declared “He has no fault!” Smirking behind his back “Congra a Trojan horse We have got Who buys all what We say Without a grain of salt,”
To solve the paradox The mob must unmask And chase The fox, A jackal In a green pasture Is unorthodox.//