Murder of Body and Thought
In a room where roach crawls
A silence befalls
People stand apart
No sound– no bird calls
The room– a former dance hall
Vision and Music written on the wall
Silence suffocates the room
No sound– no squall nor bawl
Death outstretches his hand
Cast out upon those who stand
Stand in the silent room
Death with his eternal demand
Death with his names
There to cast them to flames
Mortal destruction for generations
A tax-collector, there for his claims
Destruction of bodies
Wilting of poppies
Flesh torn from bone
‘Death to the haughties!’
Murder of the thoughts
As each body rots
In the room, destruction lies
Bodies cast into burial lots
Murder of the ideas yet to come
Murder for the ideas from
Each person in the room
Not one questions, none bothersome
Death not for what was said
Death for what was to be told
In vain the Revolutionaries bled
In vain the Revolutionaries lie dead
For what freedom had Marat
Purchased with his blood?
For what cause had he fought
What was his next thought?
Unknown unbeknownst to man
Only known by God
The people in the room– flawed
The people in the room– fraud
The people in the room are scared
Only for themselves had they cared
In time, they declared
‘No Revolutionary spared!’
No person in the room dared
Fear– the only thing shared
Selfishness among all
Waiting for neighbors to fall
Fall to the ground
On which the roach crawls
Space opens between the standing
Silence befalls.
