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๐—œ๐—ฟ๐—ผ๐—ป ย ๐——๐—ผ๐—บ๐—ฒ

The tiny state shows you the way,

Yet you unroll your mats and pray,

For holy men you must obey,

And fire your missiles every day.

Your holy men say they are wise โ€”

These bolts will spell the stateโ€™s demise,

Yet to the heavens cast your eyes,

As rockets shatter in the skies.

โ€” D.N. Oโ€™Brien