When Dictators Run Nations
Aside dispensation of truckload troubles always Aside disease, disabilities and overrun graves Lives are lived in ambit of dreads and anxiety That even at shade in deserts or safety of caves Ones voices are shackled by the constant fear Of battering booths out to beat and scotch Thoughts of dissent, or cacophony of no praise With weeps that sing like boiling kettle; that Spit venoms, peeling and engraving coverings That draw shrilly cries like from hissing furnace Truly horrific is earshot of it: inconceivable, yes Yet none who has not lived such vile impunity Can imagine, in fact, the blessed relief of being Alive and living in liberty; in free willed habitation