In the sudden death of saturn,
lay I, this burden and this wishful yearning.
Scorched by the unrelenting sunshine,
may I, with blemishes and undone resolves,
direct authority towards the frenzy
and I, may be of value and truth.

In a world, where politics serves conveniently as a euphemism for lying at the burnt carcass of our morals, one may stand and wonder at the diluted value of politics. But politics is neither the evil nor the savior. Politics merely serves the whims of those who wield it and if they so choose to use it instead of simply lying. But anyone with a distilled vision can decipher that which is truly political and that which is a morally corrupt act of lying. To be political is not to pilfer your opponent's character so as to gain an inch, nor is it to spread wildfires in the dry forests of gossip. Nor am I at the station to properly explore the subject of politics though I can experience it on a daily basis both, in its corrupted as well as pure form. As to what telos shall it be made to serve is clear: it is only properly demonstrated when used to benefit a community. Since constituents of community may differ with the knife which criteria carves it with, the very essence of politics is then rendered contingent. By this notion, necessity of politics can be ruled out but not its effectiveness or its credibility. Yet, it seems as though the current usage of politics aims to establish its necessity of usage - and thus, any attempt to necessitate politics is, by virtue of the essence of politics, the un-politicizing of politics. When politics itself is negated you are left with an obscure form of politics that cannot be conceptualized. It is in this stream of obscurity that politics is then apparent, at times, as a euphemism for lying.

Mine virtues so blazed,
mine terrible so vain,
unheralded thus began,
the howling in rains.
Whosoever may lay barren
may he then reclaim,
for this land may no longer give
to the forgiving man his deeds.