Midnight in the Imperial City

image: storiesfromtanya.wordpress.com

The walls of the imperial city look imposing

Magnificent, eternal, impenetrable.

But look closer; they are only video images

Projected on tattered cotton screens.


The weapons of the imperial city

Are fearsome, ingenious and powerful, but all they do

Is destroy. They can’t build or maintain anything,

So in the end, they always lose the war.


The City’s voice once crooned songs of power, freedom, progress.

Now it screams discordant messages of fear.

Of outsiders, of each other, of a hundred dangers

Lurking outside and within the walls.


Inside the City, streets reek of desperation.

Hungry people huddle in alleyways, while up the hill

The rich are feasting, pipes corroding

Bridges crumbling, Only the video games still work.


The emperors rely on their increasingly

Warlike police, but those men are starting

To ask, ‘What are we defending here?’

Even they see the City’s ways are not their own.

                                   Thai police join protests — elitereaders.net

So why is the City still standing?

Its fantasy machine still has power; it

Divides people, confuses and frightens them

We have had no alternative, only old voices with stale messages.


But now there are New voices with new ideas

People willing to say what was off-limits a year ago.

Some of them are getting elected.

As people become more angry and desperate,

.The magic bullet called Corona

Has canceled the distractions and excuses.

Dawn approaches. The time has come

To bravely speak our dreams into reality.

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