A Song of Youth Eternal

Apartheid is a solemn vow

In the land of the living dead.

Bitter hoards they are.

Bands of grey,

Packed as rats,

Behind the walls of their making.

 

Rasping voices rise as one

In the land of the living dead.

Righteous souls they are.

Sing-song pledges,

Joined in prayer,

Behind a flag of their choosing.

 

Amnesia is a shared disease

In the land of the living dead.

Chaste and pure they are.

Locked in step,

Paying homage,

To a golden age that never was.

 

Youth will not survive a day

In the land of the living dead.

Zombie wolves they are.

Circling packs,

Fangs bared,

Behind the snarls of their leader.

 

Time has come to burn the fields

In the land of the living dead.

A threat to peace they are.

Mouths frothing,

Drums beating,

Behind the crumbling walls of their prison.

 

Daily Post Keyword: Youth

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About Phil

Hi, my name is Phil. I’ve managed to escape the corporate world, rid myself of excess belongings, travel the country extensively in my old Winnebago, and find a new home on a beautiful barrier island in the Gulf of Mexico. I define myself as: a free spirit, a writer, a philosophical anarchist, a poet; a lover of nature, a lover of art, a protector of animals, as well as a devoted friend and partner
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