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I met a traveller from a once free land

Who said: A vast and fathomless ego hath

Scorched the earth. Nearby, on the sand,

Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose contempt

And tilted chin, and sneer of cold command

Tell that its sculptor well those passions read.

Few survived that parliamentary Armageddon

The rest were run out of town on a rail, or fled.

And on the pedestal these words appear:

"My name is Obamandias, king of kings:

Look on my legislation, ye Mighty, and despair!"

Nothing beside remains. Round the ruins

Of that colossal Self, burnt and bare

The lone and lifeless prairie stretches far away.