Death to the Poet

Death to the poet who opened our eyes
The silvery tongue that outed our lies
Death to the poet who pulled the disguise
And made all the sleepers arise

The lion of lines
The writer of right
The one whose letters carry more bite
Than the teeth of the dogs
Who started this fight

Death to the poet that cuts with his words
Refusing the weapons of a violent herd
Fists and bullets and rockets and drones
While they murder with guns
And pile up the bones
The poet strikes hearts with his stones