Beware when the faceless citizen—
Acquiescing to the limit—
Jettison’s her fearful littleness,
Makes public her swallowed grief,
Joins hands with other faceless
Ones, takes possession of the
Street, and shakes her charged
Fist at the dissembling oppressor.
That is when the new-born babe,
Answer to tyranny, strides the blast,
And pulverizes the complacent
Mighty into tongueless retreat.
Such was the day in June
When courage poured upon
The Capital street, much like
The first monsoon which thundered
Down in blessing. Wherever
You looked, fear had been
Washed away as is a chill when
The sun, however enfeebled,
Shows its skill.
The clarion that was sounded
Found resonance in city after
City, as men, women, children
Of every complexion, in an
Inspired spontaneity of rage
And pity determined to defeat
The cunning and bloody trick
Of the usurper, and to
Reclaim their own Republic.
Thus, it is time to say with
The poet of old who once
Invoked the power of the
West Wind, if tyranny comes,
Can freedom be far behind?
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