Dead leaves of thoughts scrape along the asphalt of subjugation,
but whatever we do, we will not climb the mountain of surrender.
There was a moment of freedom, a spring before the righteous,
those who had promised liberty, took power, created new laws
and a new layer bureaucracy, a jungle of words where individuals
were trapped like flies in a spider’s web of conflicting rules; and
it was winter again. At the whim of a president or a mere rumour
you could be imprisoned forever as enemy of the state; no one
told you why? And no one told us that sympathy is paramount to
treason. Yet humanity prevails over official regulatory reasons.
But the dream is after walking through five mountain passes, see
the sun arise and as mist disperses, there is a city of light floating in
the clouds, and there will be a joyous cry from the dispossessed.