Now see their fealty shorn of pretence
Those who laughed and who danced the gay quadrille
Unmasked, whose loyalty gives grave offense
To the king who fed them and now is still
Their chase of position spared no expense
These false flatterers who so mock his will
Once curried favour, now give him no rest
But intrigue, they conspire against heirs
Their ill-gotten titles framed as success
Small men, greedy, inadequate, unfair
Whose smiles and treachery undo the best
Straw men of gilded crowns and puffing breast
Of filthy lust that rots their painted air
Beneath, their king lies in unblinking stare.

Copyright © 2003 Paul Heno