18/02/2025
This is a poem that expresses my frustration with the daily news. Humanity has taken a leave of absence as the world descends into a dark hole.
Cacophony
The mob’s carnival of ignorance roars—
a synapse-snapping static,
a fever-dream of headlines screaming lies into scripture.
They kneel before screens, chanting
the liturgy of walls, of borders, of us and rotting them.
I drown in their algorithm-birthed sea,
a dark tide of teeth and slogans,
while demagogues hoist torches
to burn what little light remains.
We are fossils here,
crushed under the boot-heel of their fairy tales for the frightened: patriot, pure, great again—
words as hollow as a billionaire’s tax return.
Their gods wear red ties and snarl through golden microphones,
vomit stupidity like a sacrament.
The meek? A carcass to pick clean.
Justice? A myth scrawled in the ash of an urn.
I carve my name into the cave wall—
Here lies the fool who still believed in oxygen.
The world outside is a fever I can’t sweat out:
each venture beyond my cocoon of silence
ends in a scream stifled by their carnival music.
So I retreat, a ghost in self-exile,
wishing I’d been born a stone, a wisp, a never—
anything but this raw nerve trapped
in the circus of the damned,
where truth is guillotined
and the clowns wear crowns.
Copyright Adnan Mohsen .sydney 18/2/25
