Tyranny Revisited

You stand concrete still,

glass eyed lover.

I have no answers to this cusp

we find ourselves teetering.

You hold the torch my forefathers

cried upon beholding

their prayers answered.

Is it now to be a tourist attraction

scraping knees with oil rigs,

soda cups and the spit of gods?

What did ghosts of warriors fight for

if not for the huddled masses

seeking freedom from tyranny and the British fist.

We must now resist the fist from within.

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