Days of Chronicity

Corruption having taken over things,
You take your armour and your shield to bed,
To work, on dates, and soldering in the shed.
It's not a simple gift, those five gold rings:
They constitute a bribe. Your underlings
Are trying to indict you. They have said
You offered candy, that they were misled.
Deny it, but the smell of ordure clings.

The birds, the milkmaids, and the leaping lords
Jump to convict us, the ingenuous.
Who knew their cries would be so strenuous?
They've obviously strained their vocal cords,
The way they're shouting, waving wooden swords,
And neighing. Still, your shield is tenuous.