The Gristmill

A frigid landscape casts a bitter pall over a barren nation of weary souls imprisoned and laden under a regime of hammer and sickle, numb and cold. Regimented are the eyes of oppression unblinking, endlessly watching scrutinizing, searching, ever searching grinding down the will, receding hope. The slow wheel of the gristmill turns burden of stone, its authority crushes the spirit. Who can break this massive millstone, treading over the tormented masses? A desperate angst arises to rid the wretched bile that contaminates the land strike down the carnivorous bear and with sheer will and determination break the terrible gristmill of tyranny. Written on 5/22/2018