Filial strands of squabbling leaches
Suck not blood but thought.
Enigmatic views of right and justice
Are ethereal, repulsive, farcical not.
Clear judges rule mobs majority-
Held-elected by illustrious twats.
Moldy stones too slick to hold find
Flailing arms, falling in deeper misery-
Hazy figures-arbiters of law-
Our friends, lovers, societal care.
Right hand shakers, whom poop makers
from Gold thrones of bone and quibble
Are deceiving wreches
With dark stoned hearts,
All hail the King!
As an aside, the last five lines are supposed to be formatted differently, but this uploading thing won't hold their form. The gist is still there.