Upon seeing his members undivided

he assumed them to be against him.

He thus decided to cut off one

a final, desperate thrust of fallacies,

an attempt to satanize one

in hopes of gaining the others' trust.

He might make a good politician

for he cries out what evferyone wants to hear.

Yet his enemy is his friend,

or would be, hand he not turned his back.

The man lies with his back against the wind,

wielding his rusty sword like a madman,

shouting loudly to mask his lies

his final plea.

His defeat.

Yet his former enemies,

now his friends,

have gathered behind him like the wind.

He is alone.

Undivided ad unconquered,

but only in his mind.