Asphyxia
I feel the air seep from my lungs.
You're sapping my life's breath
with unfounded pretense.
Persecution wrought by the hands of the able
with their stranglehold around the necks of will.
Choking, it's snuffing the spark of resistance.
Darkness,
is the cover of atrocity that speaks forth from the
catacombs and echoes in the mortar between the walls
freedom was sealed within.
Asphyxiation,
strangled cold by the fingers of adjudication
grown cold with rigor.
Can you breathe?
But are you suffocating in the masses of cadavers
brought rise by the cries and the pleas of liberty
smothered by the bones of servitude long dead?
Revolution,
is the seed that bloomed through the fires of abuse
ripping away the crippled walls of dictation
Asphyxiation,
smothered by pipe dreams of milk and honey,
grown stale in the grasp of rigor.
