Truth’s spinning in an obdurate firestorm.
Words morph day by day, hour by hour.
The Patrons must anneal Truth’s platform.

Unclean lips besmirch good names and life's norm
Rabble elicits dissonance, brash clangour
Truth's spinning in an obdurate firestorm.

Nations of peoples at borders aswarm
No possessions, domicile, or dower
The Patrons must anneal Truth's platform.

Capitol walls glazed from bloody blamestorms
Blind Reps walk the halls as staunch avowers
Truth's spinning in an obdurate firestorm.

Truth's many masks, each a pitch to perform.
The Cast's carriage stages adverse power.
The Patrons must anneal Truth's platform.

Factualism twists in a wordstorm.
Balderdash! The piffle of the hour!
Still......Truth's spinning in an obdurate firestorm.
The Patrons must anneal Truth's platform.