We’ve felt this way before
The celebrants
Exhausted
Continue their revels
Persist in the riotous acclamation
Of their champion

The antagonists again
Raise their fists
Their weapons
Their voices
Uninterrupted
Now is no time for reason

We’ve felt this way before
The quiet few withdraw
Defeated they slink away
Relinquishing defense
Perhaps a protest
Perhaps merely a gushing wound