A DICTATOR ON HIS DEATH
Brutal and scourged bodies in fear,
This road; walked miles in silence,
Poor masses voices out in pain,
For a tyrant who never learns from the past.
His holiness on a second arrival,
On an errand to a stone heart,
Watered by a word, to the old wicked pharaoh,
What a re-occurrence?
How long can a strong heart lead you tyrant?
What direction would that be?
A mighty dictator eliminated by an apple.
What an Eve that led a dictator to destruction?
A dictator on his death,
Lowed below the open mud,
Empty casket with all rites observed.
As those anthems came recurring,
Guns in the air to bid farewell to a dictator.
Our halcyon days will be restored,
Jubilation, celebration greets the exit of the ‘dark guggleman’.