The deliverer comes dressed in shimmering
light stolen from the burning homes of victims,
and while he speaks of rescue and release his fingers
tighten round the throat of every quiet truth,
and the white mask of saviour fits neatly
over the face that chews quietly on suffering,
and as his coloured flag of freedom drapes the cage
he builds from orders that serve his hunger,
beneath the rhetoric, the smooth silk,
the scripture talk cast into chains,
there is nothing but the ancient theatre:
to own, to crush, to demolish,
to name the world his very own,
to take that which was never his,
and we who see the seeping blood beneath the silken
gloves must speak, must tear the costume at its seams,
must remove the mask to show the scarred face,
for tyranny is ugliest of all
when it is performed with
patriotic colours, dressed in faith
and a smile.

 

7/3/2026