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The ides with all their portents have marched right up to me
Intimated without declaring what next world shall be
Blind eyes with blind ambition sift through fetid entrails
Cassandra knows which way wind is blowing but her forecasts do not prevail

Art of prognostication greatly aided by terabytes
Strange to know what’s coming but not know wrong from right
Patriotism pronounced “mercenary”, Hessians one and all
Battle to keep the peace as into greater lies we fall

Amassed opposing forces posture to get upper hand
Whoever has the the greatest followers is one who rules the land
War of disinformation and swearing wrong is right
Leads to emasculation and perpetual twilight

High ground’s no place of honor, just strategic locale
Tis victory, not truth, demanded of our generals
The ides, the ides they have it, though what it is we do not know
Ignorance must be a virtue since goal seems to see it grow

Spring is the time for shearing and we’re a paschal lot
Can lies and disinformation snip away our rot?
Vigor of frontier expansion has long since died away
Ponzi we’ve inherited racked by dry rot and decay