Old roads built out of bricks and blood,
The man fell down with a heavy thud.
Stabbed from all sides, cornered in a hall,
It did not take long for the man to fall.
His supporters had adored his great rise,
They had seen the word through his eyes.
His life did not begin well, nor was its end.
Believers believed that he could mend.
A democracy crumbled, a dollar destroyed,
To him the nation is but a toy.
He played with it wrong and paid the price,
A violent end to a quick life.