The Deadly Reds Behind The Wall Poem by Sathya Narayana

The names of God, for them are blasphemy,
the lull of peace cacophony and love
a myth! There they're, the Reds, in demonic spree
with Stygian souls, like hawks chasing the doves!

Don't ask about the monks of Falun Gong
and what happens behind those giant ramparts?
Can sermons sweet, challenge the demons' gang;
can canons fight cannons and arts match darts? !

What rights accrue to those who say the right
from wrong where Lefts have paralysed Rights. What all
they love to see through gun barrels, is the sight
of dripping saintly blood and gnosis fall! .

Oh what an effort vain, asking the swines to leave
the sewer line and reach the royal lane...I grieve!