By: Faith Arcuri

“Resist much, obey little”

-Walt Whitman, Leaves of Grass

The puce flame piercing eternal darkness, 

prayers course through the worn-down streets

as grieving hordes migrate towards peacefulness, 

fleeing the place they once called home.

The bombs detonating in the distance

skyline collapsing into the soil.

Food and water spread throughout the cluster 

hunger overpowering all senses.

Gunshots blaring from the television

fighting against the foreign invaders,

outcries opposing the autocratic

dictator to seize their former homeland. 

They will not stand the abuse thrown their way

uniting to defeat the motherland