Impostor Times by Stewart Stafford
When dark forces mask your eyes
Happiness, a distant beacon dream
Hope approaches your warming fire
Enjoy a toast, before flavours teem
Each pillar of truth, now a traitor to you
Motherland cut in mercenary march
Bonfires of blood in purification rage
Cuckoos in the nest, gloat in the larch
Rebel droplets, merge into roaring flood
Abort the tyrant's myriad bastard heirs
Expel the puppets to the unyielding sea
Birthplace restored as the patriot dares
© Stewart Stafford, 2024. All rights reserved.