In This Expelled Land
In This Expelled Land1 min 230 1 min 230
These connoisseurs of peccadillo
Like the true actors with swollen throats,
Neigh with their wavering emotions,
To croak the moans of phony injustice,
Waving their flags all across.
I walk on this never-ending
Circular road with fear in my eyes
Of those wild dogs chasing me away,
While hunting for the fate lines
That will turn me divine.
Violent blasts of existence, several.
The wounds glide on me, numerous.
I hear it all, till my eardrums rupture,
The hollow applauds of the lady of
Justice that is played on the capitalist
Political jukebox with the jingles of
Selfish exploitation, the hide-and-seek.
In this country that resembles
A huge abode of insects, I
Have been trapped alive,
Where these hollow sinners
Sieve the pledges of morality.
Their garlands of honor hang low,
Erasing the essence of rectitude, on
Which drips my molten blood, like
That ferocious sun at noon.
The jokers of the media,
Like ravens, keep under their
Claws the realities of happenings.
A dog from the hell loyally guards
The treasure of justice – a van full of
Our innocent corpses, driven by the
Like a maimed martyr,
I walk, with my face bowed down
In this exiled country.
I walk amidst the crowd, listening
To the screeching alarms of the scary siren.
I, like with the sight of a cursed God,
With an ax, chop my past.
The future gets restless, like the
Jumbled manuscripts of the
Ancient religious scriptures.
I, of this horrid country with lost
Conscience, the Prince of Hell,
Uproot the earth, to find my joys.