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, Naked. 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’.