Hear me, tyrant. Listen and choke: the minds you mold, the souls you flood with sorrow -- one line from me and cold hearts stir again. Freedom dodges you in shadows. Seventy years are not enough, a thousand would not begin to change the simple fact: not your soldiers, police, not even nuclear weapons do my words fear! Rape my mind, snuff me out and the words live on but stronger. And another and another, and another poet will breathe a light that touches your oppressed. I know. I have seen the faces of friends raised in the stench of your rot. A melodie -- they sing. A song -- they dance. A poem -- their hearts laugh and sob and love and die. Heaven descends to end your reign. You cannot reach the place I touch. You are right to fear me. Death, torture, labor camps. The very sentence spells your doom. Rail against Fate! The clock ticks for you in the hearts of those you deny. And when, as now, you crumble, do not rejoice at chaos. The struggle and the unknown fire the passions you smothered. Die in the flames!
Copyright © John Robert Boynton, 1994
© 1995, 1997 by John Robert Boynton