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Against Oikocide
Release me from the claws of bigotry that strangles my breath
For its looming shadow longs for the sound of my death
Its chauvinist mind wants to enslave the sound of my voice
Its sickle wants to rip the echo of my choice
Even if I'm already swollen and fallen
Its clout still tramples on my limbs that were broken
Rip the vein that runs through its prejudiced heart
Make its vilifying tongue depart
For how can a light be useful in the land of the blind,
When the only voice that matters is one from a slave mind?
Take me to a place where conviction is not a ticket to die
Where I can freely spread my wings and fly
Where color of skin is not the measure of being human
Where people do not judge on basis of their clan
Where the sounds of little voices really matter
Where everybody shuns the pessimism of a hater
May 7, 2023
Copyright ©
R. B. Cawis
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