The Tyrant’s Screed – A Poem

There was a clearing o’er the hillocks treed;
Where silence of the spirit muchly thrived;
The churning air that stirred the grasses freed;
And hearts from bitter folly had been rived.

Yet ‘neath the toothed razor mountains bare;
Vast plains of men convulsed in torrid woe;
Supine no more with newfound strength they dare;
Defy the porcine caste to overthrow.

A child of hardship through the crust he broke;
Privation’s scabs adorn arms lifted high;
Told not to dream yet words of rage he spoke;
His maddened roar found echoes ‘cross the sky.

One at a time hearts sorrowed by their plight;
Backs bent, heads down, ears closed and blinded eyes;
Turn’d their distress to his commanding spite;
Through misery to words that once seemed wise.

Though that was then, despair does not acquit;
The torment done to innocents between;
The beetle men and those ‘would not submit;
Tis your fault too, though you have left the scene.

Yes that was then, now misery’s entrenched;
Sisyphean resistance due to fail;
Crushed by the tyrant’s hand so tightly clenched;
And naught escapes the dark, not ‘een a wail.

Oft wonder I of glade’s abiding fate;
Does darkness spread uncheck’d from mind to seed?
And so did lovely dell deteriorate;
Responding to the tyrant’s beastly screed?

About Joel D. Hirst

Joel D. Hirst is a novelist and a playwright. His most recently released work is "Dreams of the Defeated: A Play in Two Acts" about a political prisoner in a dystopian regime. His novels include "I, Charles, From the Camps" about the life of a young man in the African camps and "Lords of Misrule" about the making and unmaking of a jihadist in the Sahara. "The Lieutenant of San Porfirio" and its sequel "The Burning of San Porfirio" are about the rise and fall of socialist Venezuela (with magic).
This entry was posted in Liberty, Poetry, Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink.

3 Responses to The Tyrant’s Screed – A Poem

  1. Valentina Akason says:

    Simply wonderful!


  2. Reblogged this on Joel D. Hirst's Blog and commented:

    Greetings, poetry is meant to be heard, not only read. So in that spirit, I decided to read it here:


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