Outside native shore where distant relatives come from
Mountainous hills looked like folds of crashing tide
Grooving trees danced to the rhythm of ancestral drum
Woodcraft countenance of a beast appeared, faces run to hide


Metal gutting through air like the reek of some fermented spirit
All shivering bones must heed to this mystic call of resonance
And should one ignore those small alarming bells; waist-tied to this trigger happy grit
Only vicious death 'll bid victim farewell in any horrifying state of happenstance


We should have set forth at dawn; long before the eve of a looming Caesar's day
Lest we meet dangling blade at the crossroads handheld by bitumen-drenched ****** from southeast
But as daylight covered herself with a blanket of gathered thick clouds of may
The land's celebration of silence was ruined with the marching ankle-bells of the masked beast


Cultures are birthed like the plethora skins of an onion
Smearing our visions with this spiritual sogginess of something rooted and cruel
We have always known masquerade wielding a stick stripped from tall bamboo straws; to be seen as a merriment minion
And not this awful glare at its wake, needing mask spray from mouth-spitting gin, perhaps; to aggravate horror of a burning fuel


We have heard rumors of their king's weaning breathe
Perhaps; mere travelers' souls should be spared from unforeseen burial rites
For our supplication of a thousand lives shall go to mend his majesty's health
So we may leave the festival behind with great hastiness and mights

From a small coven
To a large overwhelming crowd
All clustered under the scorching oven
With our voices chorusing and loud


In the heat of a brooding chaos, behold! The guns and boots
Spouting warily with nictitating crocodile eyes, marking for some kills
As other swam of hoodlums rejoined with their loots
The breath of rightful deeds felt clogged like diseased mackerel gills


We must ward off this harsh rule in one massive anguished buzz
We must stand with one beating heart yet unresolved
With defiance or blunted zeal, not just a mere fuzz
Despite scattered dust mixing with the oozing off tossed canisters, we marched undissolved


We have tolerated enough to inspire many hunger wars
We are refusing to let our voices be contained in an enclosed stage
Be silenced, nor be put behind bars
Like some hunted wilds stocked away in a zoo cage


With such unbearable vultures' cry hovering around hyenas' feasting pile
With such rebellious act, yet justified with empty belly sense
"Where are the truckload of palliatives?", Someone alarmed with a stone projectile
In retaliation, a series of warning shots poked the skies, perhaps to flaunt firearms license


If not let to roar with animal rage while wagging its jungle tail
A hunger protest still; To what end, If not let to march towards the banquet gate of hell
If not let to bring down the profoundly deaf mushroom walls with a molotov cocktail
So sickening till dawn, yet we await the political butler to ring the broadcast bell