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Written by someone named Mark Pitt...
Trump will not last his full term. Not because of elections. Not because
of scandals. But because he has done the one thing no leader can do and survive: he has made himself bigger than the machine that created him.
The Ukraine meeting wasn’t just a blunder—it was a declaration of war, not against a foreign nation, but against the very order that keeps leaders in power and ensures their safety. He has done what no American president has done before—shaken the world’s foundations in a way that even his allies cannot ignore. NATO isn’t just a military alliance; it is the thread that has held global power together since 1945. And he is snapping it, strand by strand.
The system is patient, but it is not merciful. There are men whose names will never be known, whose influence is never written about, but who determine which presidents rise—and which ones fall. These men do not forgive. They do not warn. They do not lose. And Trump, for all his bravado, for all his victories, is stepping into a space where there is no precedent but one—what happens when a leader becomes too great a threat to the equilibrium.
His inner circle is not a government; it is a fortress of the damned, filled with men and women who stay close out of necessity, out of fear, out of the knowledge that when the end comes, proximity might mean survival. But history is unkind to emperors without an empire. The purges, the firings, the dismantling of the security apparatus—this isn’t a reformer cleaning house. This is a man sawing off the very branch he sits on. And when it breaks, there will be no one left to catch him.
At 79, Trump is no longer playing for policy or power. He is playing for immortality. He has won every battle, defied every expectation, and shattered every prediction of his downfall. He believes himself untouchable. He is wrong.
Because men who reach too far, men who stand alone, men who decide that they are the system rather than a part of it—these men do not get to die peacefully in their beds. They do not get to fade away. They are removed.
History does not care how many elections he has won. It does not care how loyal his base is. It does not care that the courts have failed to stop him. History cares only about balance. And when balance is threatened, it is restored—not with votes. Not with impeachments. But with force.
The clock is ticking, and Trump is standing on a stage built by ghosts. And if he does not step down, if he does not fall in line, the stage will collapse beneath him.
Because there is one truth, written in blood across time: when a leader becomes too dangerous to the system, the system eliminates the leader.
