He did not come to do homage

He did not come to do homage
For there was no suit
Nor did he kneel before
The bristling tabernacle of
The unholy duo
Who pounded his stature
Looking for dust
Only to find a solidity
That they could not crush
Would this man not bow?
No; he would not
His respect was to his dead troops
Whose lives had been forfeited
For their family
For their friends
And for their land
Did not he see their point of view?
Oh yes; he understood it.
They sought his turning
But this man was not for turning
In his dark, simple clothes
His straight, clear look
He sought justice and peace
Not the slippery complicity
Of a dictatorial conspiracy
To bring him and his to heel
And still they seek his demise
With lips that speak malice
They call him a weasel
And care nothing for those who have died
Minerals matter more
In a world carved up by two warlords
Whose worshippers peddle their lore