Revolutions have fought over less

and the French aristocrat, the English Knight and the

descendent of Mohammed agree on one thing,

the corruption of the battle field must be cleansed

and fire stormed right down its roots

and if takes the Marshal in his white Stetson and polished badge,

his deputies rooting through the rubbish of thirty

years of wasteland dust and paper trails that lead to one

man dressed in black and spouting his own gospel charm,

to help them bring down the despot of the so called

beautiful game, the dictator who put Caesar to shame,

then so be it, the Knight, the aristocrat and the

son of Mohammed will let the Mid West Marshal do his work

in the land of smoke, mirrors and corrupted minds.

 

It has to be questioned though on why it has taken so long

to let the counters fall into place when Governments

are destroyed in less time, surely the fiefdom is not as

extensive as the sourness that runs underneath,

and for all the talk that comes from this side of the grass,

the despot will surely survive and won’t that be a shame

for us all wrapped in scarves, tattooed hearts and

the beating heart that puts the Knight of the realm

upfront to talk our language whilst the forked tongue

of insincerity is held up behind his wall unable to prize

his fingers from his collection of envelopes,

still astonished that we ask him to leave,

that we send the Marshal in guns a blazing and ready

for better or for worse to install a new Prince amongst men.

 

Ian D. Hall 2015