Political Asylum

Written: 1/21/91
copyright 1991 Demented Thinking Productions
Political Asylum

My dark, lonely cell, I sit and count the chalk marks on the wall
Incarcerated for no apparent reason, lost under foreign law
Head in my hands, twenty-three days since I last felt the sun's rays
Confusion clearly guiding me, my mind swamped in a haze.

The curator's footsteps, keys in hand to unlock the iron gate
Putting the blindfold on while leading me out by force of hate
I'm being moved once again, bound with shackles on my hands and feet
Victim of circumstance, will it be my precious life they delete?

Taken diplomatic hostage by what seems the be the devil himself
Drawn and Quartered, with no regard to my personal health
How long must I stay here and receive this infernal sentence?
Imprisoned, Middle-East hell, I haven't seen my wife and kids since.

My new domicile, cramped hot-house shack, no food or water
Send in the troops, for my vitality they will hopefully barter
Enslaved like a caged animal, no one will witness my tears
Cruel and unusual punishment, their violence add to my fears.

Nightfall, they have returned, terrorizing, icy chill runs down my spine
Where are they taking me? Nightmarish thoughts scurry through my mind
Daybreak, sun rises in the east, burning my flesh against the desert
Assailants look loathingly upon me and spit on my grave before I die.

Torture-Pain and agony
All that's left for me
Brutality-vehemence and death
Shoot and I'll take my last breath.

Political Asylum.

Catastrophe

Copyright: 2/14/96
Catastrophe

When the big man puts his thumb on the pulse of the nation
He gets what he precisely deserves.

When the sky burns red and he sees life is coming to a halt
People buck and contort their nerves.

Catastrophic times will never cease and he knows what will happen
But does he think to do what's just?

The world is an angry planet burning uncontrollably out
Does the man thrive on his power trip lust?

When the end comes oh so near, do we blame him ourselves?
Is the world cursed or plagued?

When the man in charge destroys life and makes the wrong injust decision
Does the man conquer the rage?

When the man sails too high and mighty and decides to play God
Does he make a mistake? Is he sure?

When the man realizes his clenched fate, does he run or face the consequence?
How does he keep us all together pure?

The man swims his hands in the world's thriving, struggling national debt
Does he spend unwisely knowing in regret?

If the man thinks he can control all, doesn't he know he will be just as dead?
He leads us blindly, the stage now set.

When the man sits very cold and alone, does he remember the little people?
Can the man stand to be the only one left?

When the man realizes his own indigent farce, is it too late? Does he know?
The hours of the glass will shift.