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.
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