By Niyi Osundare
To every Empire
Its season of madness
When the Emperor’s sword is saner than his sense
And the mobs shout decrees from the palace gate
Here goes the last mortal madness
Of an Emperor addicted to power
Base, bullish braggart
Greed-governed, allergic to Honour
He belied the ballot even before the vote:
“The verdict can be valid
Only if I cheat my way to victory”
So he erected a castle of prefabricated lies
With echo chambers for the daft and deluded
And a moat bristling with crocodiles of asinine myths
But came decision day and the Verdict drowned his dream
He raved and rattled and kicked and cursed
He assaulted the outcome with bribe and threat
The courts threw his cases into the garbage bin
“Either I’m Emperor, or the Empire is dead!”
He ramped up his base and his League of Lies
“Be wild and strong and tremendously blind
Bring out your guns and void the vote”
“Go up the Hill and die for me
For in doing just so, you die for yourselves
Take back the Empire; redeem your honour
Cow the world with the colour of your terror”
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