‘Tis this dusty path

that rose tempers

making blood flow as sweat

Endless battles were fought here

and a struggling insanity was born

through the rear of freedom

The voices of reason had been heard

beyond the wide arms of the wind

But then men spat chants thoughtlessly

and became stringed puppets

of preposterous doctrines and ideologies.


One thought on “STRINGED, WILLFULLY.

  1. Pingback: Protest Night with #AbWPE | Poetry et al

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