A poem from 2018
What's that sound of crunching under your feet?
It's the noise of the bones of the men you slaughtered
When will my bones join them?
Never, if I can help it!
What's that sound of running water?
It's the noise of the rivers of blood of your victims
When will my blood flow along with theirs?
Never, if I can help it!
What's that sound of crying in the streets?
It's the noise of screaming as you dismember friend and enemy alike
When will my voice be raised with theirs?
Never, if I can help it!
I will keep out of trouble
I will keep my nose clean
I will hide away at the first sign of contention
I will look down at the floor
I will walk along with face impassive
I will bow down and worship your golden image