What is it like to have
the pretense of the world
in the palm of your hands,
so magnificiently deluded?
It must be a pleasure
to have the luxury of being
the toast of the entire consortium
of bottom-dwelling fools.
I roll my eyes down to my balls
as I see your impudent desires
cut down one by one
but gobbled up like so much hay.
I do not have the luxury to ignore you,
but I do have knuckles to crack
in your obnoxious, smiling face
as you glower threateningly.
I have things to attend to--
matters of greatest importance--
such as how much flax milk
to pour into my coffee
I know enough about your type
to know that you feel not a hint
of remorse for any pain you've caused
or the thousands who lie dead.
But it seems a bit strange
that you would take this side at all
when there are bountiful riches
and those are what you care about.
Have you been locked up
with your cadre of yes-men lunatics
a bit too long for comfort
in your tidy, tidy rooms?
Stupid nationalists with dreams
bigger than their abilities
have convinced you to go
and get yourself destroyed.
I know what it's like to fall,
and I know what it's like to rise again.
I would like to have a word
with your Bitcoin-rich sponsors.
No one likes you anymore.
I mean, they really do not like you at all.
They think you're a failed fool
with no plan or vision at all.
Even your countrymen
sneak onto VPNs
to say not-nice-things about you
all over the Internet.
Was this war all a distraction?
Was it a meat-grinder to send
the discontent to perish
instead of them storming your palaces?
I really can't say, I don't read minds--
at least not yet, at any rate.
But I do wonder what the point is
of this ridiculous mess.
You showed your ability
to meddle with the world,
to threaten the rule of the people,
and to threaten the rule of law.
You seem to be forgetting
that the world has wizened up
to your attempt to bush-whack
the rule of every law but yours.
And really, do you follow law?
Even your own intolerant law?
Even your own pathetic decrees
which you rattle off like lost dreams?
What of the lives that have been lost?
I know you care not for those.
I can only imagine the shrug
that would accompany mention of them.
Are you feeling old, gray,
a little closer to the ground
than you would like to be
when you remember your high horse?
You've shown the ability to destroy,
but not the ability to win.
You've toyed with the world long enough,
and now the world toys with you.
You're like one of those people
whom when you ask something important
brings up some hogwash about Atlantis
and how it was actually their homeland.
People make jokes about you
falling down stairs
and defecating your pants
like the old man that you are.
But while some age like wine,
you age like bread.
It's only a matter of time
until you're truly and rightly dead.
The battle lines were drawn.
You drew them yourself.
Then everyone stepped over them
and made you look like an fool.
Tell me: what are you going to wear
to your victorious funeral?
Where people remember your deeds
and then come to spit on your grave?
The world grew weary of you
as you bit off much more
than you could chew.
Now, my failure, choke on the morsel.