Silenced are the gallant,
brutalised in democracy.
North of the south, autocrats rule, no less than slavery.
We’ve known all along, but little has been done.
Light a lamp in a void, that dictator is seemingly having fun.
A propaganda that tarnishes truth, where the faux pas lies blatant.
Crystal- seeing through their fear, hope I see.
But also ironical anticipation of the régime’s glory.
No individual humans never cease to exist,
dusk and dawn a thousand times is no bliss.
Their God rules them; out of dilemma, this is the only truth that shines plain-
They have little to lose and so much to gain.
The feeble noise reverberates,
helplessness in the air; you might have a flair, but do we even dare?
No, not now; not anytime soon…
The sun rises yet again, larks in the air.
Yet again for the gazillionth time a North Korean sleeps in bed,
with hope of mere freedom to death.
They dream of me and you and liberty- not the one in the United States,
but long lived even in doom’s day.
Longevous even when none is gay.
In the deep heart’s core, if this resonates.
Go out, look up a little morep look out of this rigmarole.
Hope in fancies- that is all you need,
while life timidly seethes in the darkest hour of grief…
P.S. Anisha Tomar thank you for encouraging me to experiment, and explore a whole new genre!!
© achillesheelpoetry, 2020