Orwellian Scourge

The state...

 Has become a jealous lover,

 possessive and petty,

demanding our dreams be pre-approved and sanitized.

Truth…

Is now a shapeshifter,

 a serpent in a suit,

its tongue forked with “official statements” and “clarifications.”

 Doublespeak drips from power-mongers

like honey laced with arsenic.

Children…

Learn to spell “Freedom” with missing letters

while guileless teachers and unknowing parents

wear their thoughts like contraband,

smuggled behind fearful smiles

beneath streetlights watching like sentinels,

their gaze unblinking,

recording every twitch of rebellion

like a priest cataloging sin.

Spies…

Bloom like mold in the cracks of conversation,

eavesdropping on sighs,

harvesting guilt from glances

and making flesh and blood beings behave

like mannequins in a storefront of obedience,

posed for the camera,

dressed in compliance.

Whispers…

Stir somewhere beneath the concrete,

a determination stirring like questions without permission slips.

Courage…

Rises above the threat of an impending final act

as winged-drones circle overhead

like vultures dressed for communion.

Consciousness raises its voice as a chorus of echoes…

While the sanctified evil baptize us in bandwidth,

anointing our thoughts with algorithms labelled as salvation,

turning propaganda into stanzas rhyming in fear,

metered in obedience.

Valiancy strides forward…

Against billboards bleeding odes of loyalty,

and every headline a haiku of control.

Daring to do the right thing…

Becomes a wall of tenacity, suffocating the state’s lullabies

in the language of curfews,

trying to rock us to sleep with the soft hum

of servility as we are told

Freedom is a virus of the mind,

that questioning is a form of treason

that hope is a glitch in the system.

Well…

Even in your cathedral of control,

we are a strong people

whispering our voices,

like moths against floodlights.

Fragile.

Flickering,

BUT ALIVE.