False Prophecies Poem by anais vionet

If you prophecy the end of kings you are wrong.
Write no epitaphs, dig no graves, taste no grief.

The new czar, a rough and worldly killer firmly fixed
this very day stirs the cauldron of war to reset empire

Still, foxly friends of tyranny, who stab at weak democracy
praise the czar's autocracy, and mock free speech with treachery.

As modern judases, riding limitless swells of fortune, tease simple mobs
our old republic stagers and fades, mortally wounded by hypocrisy.

Perhaps, someday, freedom's autopsy will show what transpired,
but if you prophecy the end of kings you are wrong.