AN ODE TO THE WITCH-HUNTERS

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When All We've Ended Up With Today,
Are Long-Dead Legends For 'Redeemers',
Thugs And Murderers For Leaders,
And The Alternatives Are Simply 'Different Faces, Same Demeanour',
We're But Easy Prey, Suckers For Lousy Bait,

And Every Thing We Do Or Say,
Is Judged, And Branded 'Black' or 'White',
When To Disagree, Even Honestly, Is 'Not Quite Right',
And We'd Dare Not Ever Stand To Fight,
Lest We Find Our Lives In Dire Straits,

When All Of A Sudden,
What We Deign To Eat,
Whether Pulses & Wheat,
Or 'Holy' Meat,
Is A Question Forged To Seal Our Fate,

When Mobs Decide The Way To Go,
When Rules Protect The Weak No More,
When The Meek Are Pummeled To The Floor,
And The Helpless Find No Welcome Door,
When It's Sacrilegious To Demonstrate,

Then It's High Time To Pull Up Our Boots,
To Pump Up Our Fists,
To Raise Up Our Chins,
And In One Collective, Brazen Voice,
Bring The Guilty To Shame,
Put The Megalomaniacs In Their Right Place,
That Soon T'is Okay For Men To Debate,
And To Disagree, Without The Fear Of A Backlash Of Hate.