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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