Tyrant

Riding tigers through the night,

Dictators fear the beast's bite.

Power's throne, a fragile seat,

Built on silence, not defeat.

Boots that stamp upon the face,

Echoes lost in time and space.

Freedom whispers through the wall,

But tyrants never fear the fall.

Democracy, a dream betrayed,

In shadows where the truth decayed.

The people's voice, a muted cry,

While propaganda paints the sky.

The welfare of the crowd, they say,

Is just the tyrant's alibi.

Revolution turns to stone,

When power claims the crown alone.

Fear itself, the weapon drawn,

To turn the dusk into the dawn.

A boot, a bludgeon, and a lie,

To keep the rebel spirit dry.

So rise before the silence grows,

Before the iron curtain shows.

Dictators fall, but not by chance-

It starts when people learn to dance.