One can do their bit and say as they please,

But in the end, action is hard to be made

No matter their speeches or rants or writings or askings or pleas,

His pretty words won him a place above their crusade

This was more than frustration or a bit of upset-

This was anger, this was loathing, this was abhorrence of a most terrible degree-

Anger at the still-looming threat

For despite all their efforts, he was still in control, and Nature couldn't be free

What was there to do?

What could they do at all?

They'd tried their coup,

But it was just not enough, nothing was enough, nothing at all