Haunting Memories of Revolution

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Haunting memories of revolution

Echoes of shouting and rampage

Streets awash with violence

Bloodshed, torture, and fire

Broken glass, burning cars

Wailing of an abandoned child

Tears and painful darkness

Rape, murder, and chaos

Books burned and information lost

Bodies lie when they died

Masked bands of anarchists,

Or socialists, no one is sure

Chanting and making demands

Take from the producers

Topple the organized regime

 

Social justice at knifepoint

The media demanding blood

Puppets worked from behind the scenes

Armies of indoctrinated youth

Hiding in plain sight, covered faces

Dressed in black like partisans

Yet directionless and terrible

Fighting for their own destruction

But too much a fool to see the truth

Politicians and police slaughtered

Soldiers hoarding arms; for a while

Until the ammunition ran out

Communications failed

Collapse of the internet

Followed by the lack of fuel

And then came the hunger

 

Despair and a loss of purpose

Factories shuttered, windows broken

And the day the power stopped

With the gloom of winter on the horizon

Starvation and bone-chilling cold

Fewer voices shouting each day

The elements took more than a share

Hunger brought the unexpected change

When other peoples money ran out

Store shelves barren and silent

Medicine nowhere to be found

Brackish water no longer clean

Furnishings burned for warmth

Family pets slaughtered and eaten

And still the hunger remained

 

Lost were the ways of production

Killed in the minds of the producers

All the technological gadgets

Now worthless and discarded

Cars became dwellings unmovable

And the sounds of nature disappeared

Quiet streets except for scavengers

The New World Order a failed coup

Nothing left to wield control upon

Bankers and the wealthy forever gone

Paper money now worthless currency

Even precious metals lost value

Bands of outlaws remade the laws

Slavery, prostitution, pedophilia

Until lack of resources took this away

Always hunger playing the final card

 

The useful idiots who started this mess

Gone, but their actions not forgotten

The elite played with fire and lost

In their quest for global control

Annihilation of the human race

Destruction of production and society

And their unplanned suicides

 

More Dystopian Poetry

Midnight and the Fall of Man

Prophets of Pollution – Deconstructing the Destruction

 

thegypsy

Owner/Admin at The Gypsy Thread
As a hopeless romantic at heart, Ralph indulges in romantic poetry, but also allows his mind time to wonder across all subjects.A master of vocabulary and word-use, Ralph has a writing style that gives his works their own life, often giving his readers just enough information that they end up doing additional research on his subject matter.
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