The Winds Howl Before The Storm

 

 

 

There was once a tree called Justice here

All gnarled but strong with age,

Till a tyrant one night dark, in bitter fear,

With sharpened axe of rage,

Did pile the limbs for all to see,

As he quickly cut it low,

To burn the books of Liberty,

On flames red with murders’ glow,

 

There was once an idea very bold,

Democracy I heard,

Though no one knows, with tales so old,

For they lie with every word,

Dark drops of opium in every phrase they say,

“Have hope, my friends, we truly feel your pain,”

While through the night and through the day,

We wait, in cold and bitter rain,

 

There was once a bell of Brotherhood

That rang loud so all could hear,

From town to town to edge of wood,

But lies silent now with fear.

Cracked, it rests among the tombs,

Atomic ash and dust,

While smiling men in secret rooms,

Plan wars for which they lust.

 

And once there was Enlightenment

And Reason’s voice sang sweet,

Of Rights of Man and truths we now lament,

Murdered with impunity, cut down on every street,

So now we must renew our song,

Our struggle take another form,

For the days run dark, the nights are long,

The winds howl before the storm.

 

Lament For Savaged Sirte

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Along the silent sanded shore the sea birds sadly flew,
Where once the sound of clashing arms did shake the morning dew,
They sadly flew in mourning pairs for all they saw that day,
That day they saw the heart of hope lie bleeding on the bay,

That day they saw the people march to fight for right once more,
As many and one through time have done since days of ancient yore,
They marched with banners Red and Green, with simple flags of rage,
For they raged against the many crimes of the long black fascist age,

They fought for you, they fought for me, they fought for all mankind,
But we looked away and watched the screens that poison every mind,
So poisoned minds thought poisoned thoughts and dreamt of shiny things,
While screaming planes swept low with bombs caressed by taloned wings.

See The Green Flag Flying

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(On the news of the death sentence against Saif Al Islam Gaddafi )

See the Green Flag flying beneath the desert sun,

And see the brave men marching, and the women armed as one,

To fight the plague of locusts which chaos sent from hell,

In fear of all things caring, where profit does not dwell.

See them fiercely fighting the killers and the thugs,

The ones who stand for nothing, or only stand for blood,

Their courage never failed them, no need of NATO drugs,

They fought for all we fought for since the days of Noah’s Flood.

They fought for education, for women and for men,

They fought for social justice, for all they had won then,

A republic of the people, and of a small green book,

In which were found such wond’rous things the very heavens shook,

But then the NATO planes swooped down, like vultures in the sky,

And ripped apart the body with their bombs and with their lie,

They flew and circled every day “til all the blood was bled,

Til they cried, “ we came, we saw- he died,” and laughed to see him dead,

And now their dogs in Tripoli howl and bay for death,

Of those who fought for freedom and will with dying breath,

They called a broken room a court and made some bandits judge,

Like poor Saddam Hussein found out, the Yanks can hold a grudge,

And now they want to kill the rest, with death they’re generous,

For we are all their enemies and Saif is one of us,

So turn your heads and listen, and clench your fists right tight,

For these vultures need some fighting and it’s we who have the might.