History of Sorts

Upon his throne of wires and steel,
Sits Elon Musk, with fervent zeal.
A master not of war, but brands,
Controlling minds with tweets and hands.

He cries of “free speech,” bold and grand,
Yet strikes dissent with iron hand.
His chariots glide on Mars-lit beams,
While workers toil to chase his dreams.

Like Goebbels with a shinier screen,
He spins his tales, so crisp, so clean.
“Fear not!” he cries, “for I am he
Who brings the future—trust in me!”

The Doge, the bots, the grand facade,
A circus built to shout and nod.
For every doubt, a meme is flung,
To drown the truth in pixel-tongue.

Yet in his mind, a tale untold,
That power, new or ancient, old,
Still bends to men who charm and scheme—
And rule the world with clicks and dreams.