The sweet nectars,
Of truth and wisdom,
Strain,
Through desert sands.

Righteous thoughts,
Evaporate,
Into the arid air,
Where loyalty is despair.

Passions stirs,
The savgae beast,
Within the heart, of mortal men,
Where ever,
The taste of freedom dares.

Once the silent alarm,
Sounds,
Wanting, neither freedom,
Nor war.

The masses appear,
From hidings unknown,
Suddenly,
Full of courage and vigor.

The law, they take,
Upon themselves,
Forging, mob rule,
From a chaotic state,
Of confusion.

Where Once Again
The law, of the gun rules,
Spilling blood,
Onto desert sands.

By: William Bonilla
/019/03