By Nikhil Sankar 

“Come here children,
Let me tell you a story,
Let me tell you a story ,
In this land,

A tale of chaos,
A tale of power,
The heart of a nation,
Near devoured,
This is the tale of near disaster,
Election 2020…..hell’s wrath unbounded,

Where were we all,
That indelible moment,
When the news shredded all calm?
Where were we all,
When confusion bloomed,
And old scars redecorated our landscape?

Figure by figure,
Botched numbers by inflation,
Trumpeted to still breaths,
By a noble foot soldier,
Doing his bidding while the strings pulled taut,
Doing his bidding while the world watched on,
And the patriotic Pharisees slept,
While a nation plunged,
Plunged, and plunged….

Auras of anxiety and anguish,
Flooding the air,
Into homes to out all hope,
As grandchildren reel from the horror stories
Told to them but now see them,
They/And now feel them,

2020 decaying to 1973,
Democracy chipping, chipping away for five months,
That familiar iron grip once lost in ‘85,
Once more holding the nation hostage,
O almighty Kabaka!
Immortality flowing through his disciples,

Those were the days when the nation stood still,
Tension and Insecurity form  gospel,
As Chants of Slo Fyah Moh Fyah,
By hyenas in fringes,
Trying to pit us like animals,
Trying to defile our souls,

But with each new day,
The lamps of hope kept (On) burning,
For Brother Jagan (Ramessar),
For Brother Bholanauth,
For Brother Walter,
Their blood shed, for us to rise to the mantle,
Their blood shed, for us to be free,

I see the heavenly sun on the horizon,
The morning after,
Breathing life into the new chapter,
I see a fractured nation,
Worn thin, bonds broken,
But I see a beautiful people,
Rising from this hurt,
Achieving that elusive unity,
For as long as we are around,
There is hope,
Always…”