Then there is sorrow of the masses
The collective wailing of the crowd
A black parody of all that goes on
In the recesses of aggregate mind,
A mash of body fallings on a curb
A bloody mess by megalomaniac,
A stupidity of pantomime in black
For burnished thrones and sashes.
A boring repetition is all they do
A déjà vu and we have seen it all.