I pen these verses, all the while invoking the spirit of W.E.
Henley [for his beautifully measured cadence via 'Invictus' ]. In the same spirit,
I entitle my own written poem 'Convictus'.
C *O *N *V *I *C *T
*U* S
Around that bleak November night,
Among
the nation's voting polls
Whatever gods that might exist
Encountered
pain within their souls.
Some
viewed this outcome 'circumstance',
Much
eased by Russians from abroad;
Behind
dim cloaks of secrecy,
Their
stealthy actions beckoned fraud.
YET...
Abhorring pretense, scams, and
cons
Remain some guardians 'unafraid';
As years unfold, and facts give way,
It
finds them weary of such trade.
No
matter when feign glamour calls,
How
charmed one is by crafty lure,
We
MUST be masters of the 'GOOD',
Assuring
grace and truth endure.
Written by LPG
EPILOGUE- The root of all evil...