A Fool's Paradise

Reason has been defeated!
Right when the world requires
Compassion and discretion,
The gee-honks choose their champion:
A chump-in-chief,
A savage, crass, vainglorious grotesque.
What barbarities will the coming weeks unleash?
We hold our breaths and cross our fingers,
Afraid to take a single step,
Lest our knees give way.
The weight of many dooms
Presses down on us,
Immobilizing those who held a hope
For noble propositions.
The wolves will feast on caribou tonight
And stuff their guts with raw, ill-gotten meat,
While we, the temperate herd, expire,
Blowing bleak laments across the frosty plain.
The greedy-stupid axis rules the day,
And our only recourse is the written word,
For written epitaphs may outlast
The societies that compose them.