Busaa Judgement

Surrounding a pot,

Straws in their mouths is what they’ve got,

They claim that they fought,

Twelve of them alive from the lot,

A story is told that the battle was hot.

Clay court is what they form,

Jurisdiction they have around the homes,

No written law but it’s all in their RAMs,

Judging all as they come,

All in the name of their fathers god.

Feared by many if not all,

Committing a crime is a foul,

Punishment you get even when you howl,

Inclusive of the twelve fowls,

They eat before judging folly.

Always right they think they are,

Never wrong and unchallenged they be final,

Sticking their gavel in the ground whinny,

Busaa judgment we get,

Gold is old but courage is for our generation to challenge.