We are the chip in your marble Colossus.
On your metal, we are rust.
The corrosive tides on your dock
As penetrable and elusive as dust.
Gold will not shoe us away.
Our Republic lives, and so we stay.
You speak to us with care
But under that eloquence and sheepskin, malice stares
Where Caesar's statue stood, Nero's is placed.
Code is reformed, morals erased.
They call themselves the patriots of change.
Very true, they are masters of words to arrange.
All good intentions fostering their power.
Under the Tree grows a poisonous flower.
Enjoy the thick palace walls and exotic fruits,
The belly dancers, wine, and royal suits,
Because we are the gnat in your ear tainting the music.
The bitter grape placed on your lips.
Your guards are patrolling. Have no fear.
Well...........Until the security slips.