The Coup D'État Poem by Aminath Neena

Oh it surfaced
Its grotesque semi-naked face
At the tip of dawn
Its ghastly tail appeared
Right at noon
And time stopped
The king was bullied
His crown lay tattered
In the sidewalk
The living became ghosts
No longer the hosts
Standing rooted
While the palm trees were uprooted
Slowly it meandered
Among the peaceful green meadows
Once a place of virtue
Now, filled with dark shadows
And two faced jesters
A byproduct of its slimy gestures
Squashing all flora and fauna
Devastating all within its arena
Tree stumps and whole houses
Caught in its talons
To be gobbled up as melons
Like a hungry wolf
It squashed the innocent under its hoof
Their flesh devoured as a feast
Breakfast, lunch and supper, as a treat
The crickets stopped singing
The grass hoppers stopped merry- making
When the colossal flag groaned
Writhing in agony
Shoulders too heavy
When all ended in jeopardy
She struggled to breathe in deep caked mud
Trying desperately to shun
Away from the sliding monster
All in vain it seemed
A never ending plague, sinister
Perhaps a punishment
A sort of empowerment
As the sun hid behind the clouds
Too moved and ashamed
To pay homage to the deceased
The clouds took off their hats
Mourning for the past aesthetic splendor
Of the cool ocean breeze
Paired with the green coconut trees
Then the sky above rolled his eyes
Before a tear dropp cascaded on the disrobed flag
And the flag, she sighed
A deep well aroused moan
But taking in the treacherous bone
She remained silent
For this she knew deep in her heart
That life was a test of patience
And if approached with the right endurance
Playing the cards along
Things will change for the better soon
And yes she knew
That smiling at the sparkling moon
The children of love's yellow canvas
Will one day stand tall, in her campus
With flawless victory
Side by side, to be written in history

Yes, the good king will be back again
With more blessings to reign
And- all in good time