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Poem

It’s winter in the year twenty-eighty-four
Hell has landed on every shore
Devilish eyes aglow as they rose to dominate
People now captive to a totalitarian state

Society is now ruled with an iron fist
You’ve seen those movies; you know the gist
Elders tell tales of an earth so free
Crossing great valleys and sailing the sea

I haven’t seen the sun since they poisoned the sky
We scurry in darkness, where the wealthy don’t pry
The air has a noxious opacity that stings my lungs
Those activists on pedestals just spoke in tongues

These decrepit streets are treacherous at night
Instead, we huddle together in flickering candlelight
Few can afford the luxury of simple power
The doomsday clock lurks just shy of the hour

We rummage through garbage for anything to eat
Surviving cold-drenched nights is no easy feat
The smell of street food, I’m teased by the air
I try not to stare, for that chance he may share

I’m enslaved by demons who pull the strings
There’s no escape; they’ve clipped my wings
Can’t we break this monotonous chain?
Let’s rip it all up and start again

I tearfully weep, “It’s not meant to be this way”
I’m tired of being some sick monster’s prey
Every night I dream of the same old prize
That the darkness be pierced by a golden sunrise

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