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.//