GUNPOINT


GUNPOINT
 
At gunpoint,
they entered the scene...
An idyllic picture of a city: serenity
like terrorist cells
they lay up structures of parapets
In the heat of the day,
dressed as the night with automatics slung over shoulder blades,
Their appearance -
as chameleon beguiles their true intention
An ubiquitous presence like racing puddles of water
now the cesspool at the brink of swallowing us
We hear a rhythms of love in phoney speeches -
'we are your friend'
Yet if you listened close enough
these are a karaoke of anarchy:
a state of emergency
marching boots squeezing live triggers with smoking nozzles
pointed in our puzzled faces,
Splashes of red paints of death over falling bodies
Vanishing breadwinners piling like hacked trees
Bullet ridden bodies lifeless in the scorching sun
While the city continues to live
Resting on the a foundation -
the blood of the blameless,
Their needless sacrifice at the hands of the 'so-called' gatekeepers
The sworn templars
The enemy of the state.

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