And the winner is…

(Statuary deceit rewarded)

Go my faithful soldier
Let the fragrant incense rise
To those great rulers
And their lies.
Draw on them
Blessings down
Blood dripping from
Imperial crowns.
Go those wrathful soldiers
Let the cost of living rise
Surveillance and slaughter
from the skies
Withdrawn from us
Past blessings found
Surrendered dignity
Destiny crushed or bound
By those great rulers
Of the skies
To whom we turn
Our adoring eyes.
See thy credulous subservience
Their base perfidy you
Also know.

(A refrain from Handel’s “Theodora” updated)

Dr T.P. Wilkinson writes, teaches History and English, directs theatre and coaches cricket between the cradles of Heine and Saramago. He is also the author of Church Clothes, Land, Mission and the End of Apartheid in South Africa. Read other articles by T.P..