...And the mad kings wave their magic wands:
"Let peace descend upon the land!"
And their sycophants cheer and dance.
The merchants clutch their purses
while gypsies beg in the streets.
The thugs still grip their clubs
behind their backs. For now, they smile.
And I, the working man, stifle a yawn.
Some cheap wine later, perhaps, and a song
just like every other night
before returning to tomorrow's labors.