Song of a Minstrel

My heart erupts like a volcano bursting with scathing songs,for the lobes of tyranny,fattened by the deceptive lyrics,from sycophantic lips My tongue,a molten kalam,shall consume the valve of fear,preaching caution to frustrated souls,now my music must rise ,from the din of ancient sighs,remixed in the swelter of pain and anguish,rehashed in the gurgling sound,of blighted bellies My anvil honed labial,shall spin arrows to pierce,their stubborn ossiccles and invade the cosmos of haughty drunkeness My strident cry shall spin a noose,for the drooling neck of despotism,hawking chaos on our conflagrating land,where swamp dwellers bath with spittle,and princes pawn peasant's heritance My touching tune shall rouse,fascist minds to the scent ,of our brewing anger,and restless impatience I shall continue to sing until,this gathering storm harvest hearts,and stir furious fists,to deal deathly blow to the cenotaph of tyranny.