Spread the love


What a terrible era in which idiots govern the blind;
where the world we want rears the world we hate. Lo!
pencils which tend to squeal upon slates; henceΒ fetters
of silk upon sense are bind. The eye of the sun was red
as blood; we marched on forth through the streets of

Theories shattered beneath thus weight; we believed
their words and tuned them in. Lest we compress in
a sable state; stumbling back in light and shade agin.
Combat thus contrite chords in the hour of plight; a
white plumed battle of ferocious waves.

Torment, madness, tears and sin;
Can’t burn us up or paint our skin.



Photo credits:Β pheopic.ru

Dark Poetry for Cruellest Month


12 Replies to “Dissidence”

  1. Your second line makes me have to catch my breath… such terrible truth.

    You’ve done such a great job with imagery in this poem, Sanaa. From beginning to end we read ourselves into a battle where winners and losers are covered with so much mud and blood that it is impossible to tell who belongs where.

    This one goes right for the gut. Wonderful!

  2. Your words gave me images of “well meaning” soldiers, warring for peace, killing to bring freedom… fuelled by the words of their leaders. One man’s freedom is another man’s enslavement XXX

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *