A Crossroads for Iran

When missiles fly The Mullahs lie They bide their time To turn the tide Their constant bluster Now short of luster For why we ask No God sent task To build a bomb With feigned aplomb Their word to spread Among the dead They have their place To find God's grace Not trample lives Like stinging hives Fear and temerity No road to prosperity But that's what they seek Control of the meek A proud nation with tales of old A proud people who once were bold A history where feats abound A long lost empire to astound Time for Iranians to now earn That for which they clearly yearn Freedoms tenuous flickering light Now in their grasp in line of sight