Ladies and Gents, Comrades, Brothers and Sisters, we beseech you to please gently endure these mildly polite rude rhymes, fathomed by Rudboy, who, inspired by the Dante's Inferno's verses, could not hold back his tongue! Ahem ...
Colin Powell's Place in Hell
Behold, please, you there, for we have discovered,
the place where Colin Powell, the liar,
will be dispatched to, after his funeral has expired.
Right after his duplicitous life on earth, as if by miracle,
is extinguished, having delivered too many false criers;
after which there ensues a battle, in hell's Eighth Circle,
between ditches numbered eighth, ninth and tenth,
which shall decide which one of them can encase forever
this double-tongued prevaricating white-black up for rent.
In this fight between the ditches, it is ordained,
the eighth and the ninth, housing in there,
evil counselors and sowers of discord, get nailed
by the tenth, where falsifiers ruminate on their sins;
this, carried through by Black Cherubs, Hell's little handlers,
who lead the sinners to their true stations where they sit,
besotted by the furious fires of Hell, no escaping it!
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