We were so naive before the fall, having watched distant states dissolving from the safety of our
Shores. We sent thoughts, and prayers, and dollar bills, tsk tsking all the while. Nothing, though prepared us
For the shattering collapse, the heads rolling through the hallowed halls, their whispered names
On everybody’s lips. Perhaps those far flung states will reciprocate and send their thoughts, and prayers,
Coins of all the realms, as we resist the tide of tyranny with voices and with votes. Maybe it’s not too late.