To the Bards

When lies and anger cloud our land,
Truth is denied, and life is cheap,
And demolition seems close at hand
(Those will not sow, who only reap!).
I see with horror, the Enemy's hand
In madness raised, with every leap
Of crazed unlogic, with statement grand
Meant to excuse, but only keep
Those few, that hard-beleagured band
From talking sense, who though they weep
At Logos denied, yet still they stand,
Their 'perilled vigil yet they keep.
I look now at my hand of cards,
But Lo! I have a band of Bards!