Extirpate the Potentate
The famed archer perches on the minaret
While the waxing moon disappears
He studies the dancing silhouettes
Waiting on the reclusive premier
The scant light of a torch coyly dances
And soon the moribund ruler emerges
The bowman knows where his allegiance is
Soon the realm will be singing dirges
The arrow hits the heart and it is rent apart
And so departs the tyrannical tetrarch
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