Don’t you spin; words at us,

desperately now you mummied cuss.

From your grave,

want to save.

Those crumbling temples,

tying us to futile ambles.

Those vicious goons,

daggers long and cocoons.

No ones seeing you spin your webs,

as your monstrous life slowly ebbs.

Simply said your time is up,

to you is thrust a poison cup,

in its myriad dark designs,

reflect your melted facial lines.

Now drink today’s clarion call,

Or await the thud of a guillotine fall.

original

saadat tahir

February 1, 2011

(Islamabad)