Don’t you spit; words at us,
desperately now, you mummified cuss.
From your grave,
want to save.
Those tumbling temples.
Tied to us, futile ambles.
Brutal, vicious goons,
daggers long and cocoons.
No ones seeing you spin your webs,
O’ Monstrous one, that slowly ebbs.
We’ll throw at you, what ever it takes,
Lay down lives for children’s sakes.
Simply said your time is up,
to you is thrust a poison cup,
in its myriad dark designs,
reflect your melted facial lines.
Now drink today’s clarion call,
Or await the thud of a guillotine fall.
saadat tahir
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/thud-of-a-guillotine-egyptian-revolution/
