Against Oikocide

Release me from the claws of bigotry that strangles my breath For its looming shadow longs for the sound of my death Its chauvinist mind wants to enslave the sound of my voice Its sickle wants to rip the echo of my choice Even if I'm already swollen and fallen Its clout still tramples on my limbs that were broken Rip the vein that runs through its prejudiced heart Make its vilifying tongue depart For how can a light be useful in the land of the blind, When the only voice that matters is one from a slave mind? Take me to a place where conviction is not a ticket to die Where I can freely spread my wings and fly Where color of skin is not the measure of being human Where people do not judge on basis of their clan Where the sounds of little voices really matter Where everybody shuns the pessimism of a hater May 7, 2023