Fascist Love
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The spring is coming in corners
Still untouched by tampering
But the overwhelming mood is that
Of a tree, bowed with a baggage
Of historical convolutions
Silence is the new book on display
For voices must be behind bars
I still tiptoe towards a reconciliation
With the truth of your falsehood
Your denial of love is a mockery
A farce well played out to hook me
I grew silent with time, while the clamour
Rose till the walls shook and the iron hand
Snatched my right to be my own master.
Bu şiiri puanla
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