The King of Lockdown

The King of Lockdown raised a glass
A toast to ghosts of empires past
His gaze steadfast upon the cast
Of gathered acolytes, his class
And scenes they would deny

The grape and grain of government
Authors of instruction meant
For others, never their intent
Without consent of votes once lent
Ever to comply

The King of Lockdown, slovenly
Dismissive of discovery
Of drunken, workless company
Endemic this incumbency
Would simply tell a lie

The King of Lockdown, King of Bluff
Born of the stuff to just rebuff
Never knows when it’s enough
Never goes when it gets tough
Lets truth slide idly by