Realpolitik

Beneath a suave pretentious cloak

That hides the callousness of their yoke

The great emperors have shaken hands

With veiled allegiance to their lands.

And though the substance of their trust

Has become the subject of much fuss

The emperors do not seem to care

About detractors, jeers and fears.

To some it seems a callous game

Played with the hope the other to maim

And in so doing get ahead

And leave the other outfoxed and dead.

For long the two suspicious foes

Who each the other secret knows

Have in the most convenient times

Played with each other’s curious minds.

So why would we all wonder now

About their camaraderie and vow

When the opaque object of their ploy

Is to make the other a mindless toy?

Friendship professed, who would believe

Such outrageous façade to deceive

The rest of us about the game

They play to enhance their country’s fame?

And despite the fact we know the two

Have cold war antics to pursue

Who knew that they would ever try

To hide behind such brazen lie?

With steam escaping from their urns

We watch the two empires burn

And spread their flames across the world

With clouds of smoke that swirls and twirls.

Like dancers on a fragile stage

The delicate movements hide the rage

That lies beneath their coat of hate

Bedecked with colours of each state.

With moves and antics that annoy

We watch those frisky, cunning boys

Slickly sliding across the floor

With one eye fixed upon the door.

Their waltz has won the public’s eye

And has inspired a great outcry

For their moves inspire much unease

As they move about and touch and tease.

The end game decides their every move

The twist and turns and seamless grooves

For every move the dancers make

Reveal to all that they are fake.

The world is up and wide awake

To the pretentious camaraderie they fake

And is disgusted that their dance

Was meant to put all in a trance.

The opaque veil that hides the woe

Designed by them, the foes of foes

Is inspired and woven by the dream

To slay the other or else demean.

Great movers of world politics

Who from such maneuvers gain their kicks

And the dominant quest that each possesses

Is to win the psyche of the masses.

From Moscow on to Washington

The bridge constructed o’er that span

Is not as strong as some believe

For it is built, fools to deceive.

From the world wars to the cold wars

The two sought to be stars

And though sometimes they sit and look like brothers

They do not really trust each other.

Now in this hour of intense drama

One can feel the awful eerie karma

Created by the two convenient friends

And the things they do to achieve political ends.