Yoke of Tyranny

How heavy this willful device,
this strangle hold upon lives
awaiting the drop of mind-controlling guillotines.

How tenuous the threads of greed’s worn threat,
suspending the knife-edge of control,
daring the resistance of freedom’s courage.

Yet…

How sweet the taste of resistance,
that primal scream of rational belligerence,
that strength of numbers moving to disarm
the threatening blade of demagoguery.

And yet…

How powerless the disenfranchised feel,
knowing fate’s frayed rope might soon give way,
dictatorship’s giant succumbing to gravity’s force.

Might there be a resolution without death of spirit?