Tyranny

The man of the people walks
In his majesty many tremble
His voice like the shattering thunder, commands
As men, women and children embrace the ground
In appreciation of his rust leadership

Men on flute sing his praises
Dissatisfied, he will blow his trumpet
To convince those minds ruffled by fate
As they gulp the bitter liquor of his achievement
To their distressed ears on shaky bodies

They sing his praises rapturously
As mints meet roughened hands
To assuage the tyranny of their stomach
And lend their voices against their hearts
In defiance of self.