In the quest for power's gain, the land doth shake,
But Cobalt mine lies still, no bounty take.
In chain of battery, Chinese rule is found,
Whilst the U.S. in their shadow, is bound.

Billions cast on Texan soil so grand,
To guard a border, issue of the land.
Yet security proves a beast untamed,
Their efforts seem in vain, and to be blamed.

In January's sixth day, an echo lingers,
Of counsel's court and pointing fingers.
The Trumpet's song may hold a sour note,
As he seeks again the presidential boat.

by Guillemette de Ventadour

a centaur