An apparition emerges from the wings.
He strokes his chin,
flexes his will to win once more
and shoulders the door of democracy.
He does not hide his grotesque face,
nor his intention to burn
down any trace of unlawful entry.
Power-driven waste is his vanity.
He looks the world in the eye,
his tongue, once laced with lies,
tells it as it is.
He will tear it all down
and start again, he vows.
An honest man, you say,
then sign away humanity
with a flick of your wrist.
Who will extinguish the
deadly fuse that leads to the heart
of our communal home,
turns to ash the institutions of hope,
ignites hatred, greed and war?
Who will check the power of
populism that stalks the earth
in bad faith and bad hair?
What value then, your vote?