Glum faces glued, to crumbling Communist wall
With turrets, glaring at, propagandized lives’ showcase
Had Lenin, Marx, foreseen, what their faith, would befall
Would China still be, their saving grace!
To deify False Gods, knelt on their, ripped-up skins
With parched spines, staring at, their splintered spleens
Why Kim’s despotic ‘Socialism’, be their obligated sins
A nation lost to oblivion, under bloody-red smokescreens
On listless streets, drift lost buses, ply zombies, to drudgery
With no hopes, no protests, no regrets…and bizarrely, no fears
So deadened by manic-Marxism, living daily perjury
Was Marx’s vision of Collectivism, just blood, sweat and tears!
Seven decades of deceit! Ain’t done yet! This brazen show?
On the tomb of Communism, why all wars lost, none won!
On barren souls, seeds of smiles, when time will sow?
When shall soar the phoenix, from The Land Of Dying Sun!
© 2016 Vikas Chandra