Dying Democracy

Dying Democracy
 
Rulers  are the lords of this land
Their Wishes  and words are laws
Their own castle is their world 
We are  the unwanted creatures to them
They will come and they will praise us
Up to capturing their throne
Then we will become zero as usual
Your pen should not write and
Your tongue should not speak
Your hands should not rise
Against their walks and runs
Medias speak their fame  and
Papers write their deeds
Cinemas  exhibit  their highness
We are only the audience to clap
There is a tomb in the center of the land
The Rulers They will come and honor
That is the day of Our Independence
Which   is the gift of our toils and sacrifice.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2017

Poem

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Book: Diverse Voices: The Poetry of Human Rights and the Pursuit of Peace