Premiership; wither the thought!


Premiership;  wither the thought!

For the rule of law, you ought tenaciously fight;

For justice and equal rights,

The empowerment of people with might,

To its level-best height.

Make no doubt!

Once these are planted to root,

as pillars are to arc-boutants.

No one could undermine and violate;

You then  shall be contented to be led

By anyone deserving to head.

But rest assured you seek no office

And ask for  a vote to be endorsed;

Not because you are not competent,

That you have no talents

Nor the temperament.

Far from it, in fact the opposite,

You are endowed and gifted.

But you ought be appalled to provide an opportune, of fortunes,

(For anyone, be-they with maliceafterthougt,

Opinionated or naively opined);

To cast a rejection vote;

So to gloat over,

Reaping their cynical  plots.

But more to the point,

For dreams once entertained  down the gutter aorint, to be not;

What you would consider a moot

As a self inflicted demise, made apparent.

Videlicet,  for lack of a choice,

For better for worse,

You may renege the promises

You claimed you would deliver for all to see;

A disappointment for those who lent their voices,

For you be seated in the lead office,

Even though  they may not finger-point and make loud noises.

Likewise you shouldn’t wish to hold office,

Be it clean from mishpocha artifice,

Even lawfully endorsed and enforced,

For at most stretched five vigesimal months,

Then duly thereafter dispensed,

As one does with auricle’s tophus or gastrolith.

For that to be the case

You warm up to the seat to chase

And finally mounting on to the chaise,

Sadly, you then would slip and skip the niche,

You deeply relish.

Then you have but yourself to blame for the trip,

Thereby that ensued an undignified strip

Of an eternal qualities of leadership,

Once you thought you have been granted for keeps.

Alas! People of the world, dear fellows!

It is better  to stay low

Under the radar’s glow

Yet still radiating  aglow,

From below

Beholding the rule of law.

Any spume of misrule spewed

Rather than float on it and flow.

All must, instead flex this fists

and punch  it with deadly blows.

One who leads best, blest;

Is one who detest a power seat

But does politics  from a position least noticed.

After  a la-di-da, brouhaha,
Spurious serenade,
That they were God sent, anointed 
To rule an inimitable holy land in the planet,
what did these Moguls instead offer —
Cleeked and Clinging to power,
Blood thirsty monsters —
Other than discord and despair,
Ensued by Incalculable  murders and massacre,
Records on-their-watches registered!
The sad thing to concur 
They still have foot-soldier followers
Vowed to go to their graves
Unrepentant, asking for a shrive
what their knave masters
Did for millions of citizens waves 
after waves turned slaves.
Yared Huluf


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