He came draped in gilded lies,
A jester’s grin, a tyrant’s eyes,
“I’ll build great walls to sterilize—”
Just close your ears to the orphans’ cries.

He vowed to “save” the land from wasteful government hands,
But then pillaged coffers, slashed vital social plans.
The threads of a safety net frayed beneath his knife,
While the impoverished starved and elders lost their life.

A nation’s tapestry, once tightly spun,
Unraveled slow, then came undone—
Not by blade, but from the hate he bred,
“Sow suspicion,” the puppetmaster said.

He stoked fear with cunning guise,
A flood of smoke to blind our eyes,
Whispering, “Your neighbor’s not your kin—
Fear the shade of their foreign skin.”

He cursed the poor, the brown, the displaced, their distressed cries,
Voices drowned by his rhetoric of contempt and despise.
But the throne he carved from deceit, mistrust, and falsehood
Splintered to pieces where the people, arm in arm, stood.

False pillars built on weak and shifting sand
Collapse hard in time’s unforgiving, clenched hand.
In the dark, where democracies often fail,
A flame refused to bend, to break, to grow pale.

For hearts still beat where justice plants its seeds—
No autocratic clown outlives the reckoning of his deeds.