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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