The Tyranny of Noise
Voices no longer talk but yell.
Angry legions, carrying banners
along burning streets,
have infiltrated the Temple quiet
with the unholy noise of hell.
Rage has been elevated
to the status of virtue,
division into a hymn.
Soon, fiery eyed militia,
banging their drums,
will be knocking on your door
to present a warrant
to enter your head.
Find a hatch somewhere
into the still
of an inner space
and escape, safe
from the marauding mob
tearing silence apart,
laying waste the State
in the name
of their rowdy god.
Copyright © Paul Willason | Year Posted 2023
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