The Last Lost Isle Of The Queen

“Take me down”, Lord Nelson, sighs, at City Square
Crown Insignias, rust, fall off, every chest
Whilst, an empress, spits, last satire
“Alas! My colony’s, L(O/A)ST conquest!”

To forgive, White Man, is a, Black Man’s creed
Slavery, survives time, in, ‘self-pious’ mind
For a ‘Lesser Race’, pain’s, existential need
Makes past, present, future, a myth colorblind!

350 years, of fear, plus, 50 of, sheer spinelessness
Sums up, Black Ethos, in disrepair
Ever-indebted, to a, White Empress
Whose doormat, still, is a, Black Skin’s, despair!

White Flag, falls, from grace, Black Flag, flutters high
Symbols ain’t, what, they’re meant, to mean
White Truth, still reigns, o’er, Brittle Black Lie
The Last, Lost Isle, Of The Queen!

© 2021 Vikas Chandra

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