On death

From the pulpit of blind patriotism, you preach to me about god and nation

this so called “land of freedom” built on the backs of slaves through genocide and exploitation

And in the name of god, you murder without reservation, the men and women who resist domination.

And with that you expect me to salute and wave, the blood stained banner, that you so proudly wave as a symbol of freedom, and justice for all,

yet the day will come, for you to be called, to answer for the crime,

that you’ve been committing, and when it does, we’ll all be singing, a song of triumph and liberation won,

a ballad in the name of Revolution!

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One Response to On death

  1. amy says:

    This is sad. Revolution onto death. Is this really a better way?

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