The victory has been won.
The job has been done.
The Deity has come home
Where stood the dome.
Judgments are not always
About justice purely.
Wise men take in the pulse
Of the times in their decree.
The road to truth
Is never smooth.
The lady with the blindfold
Has even scales,
But, when all else fails,
Those that win have
The louder tales.
Consequential contentions often
Require to be weighed
In uneven scales.
The meek who lose seven
Times from eight
Must patiently wait
For the fullness of heaven.
Nor is the longing for peace a right.
Peace may come only when
The weak do not indict
Times’ chosen men.
Those that have the most cloth
Shroud more sin
Than those whose virtues
Have protections paper-thin.
So, go now and pray
That you may live another uneventful day.
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