The Republic is falling. Long live the republic!
Slow fall, was it only ten, maybe twenty years ago
the Dream long ago killed, sterilized, repackaged
    and rebranded
absolute free, no money down
with the adjustable rate and the balloon payments
camoflauged under the fine print

The Dream is for sale, money, tears, blood
The money is an illusory joke anyway
but the blood seeping into the
deserts where Empires go to die is real.

The blood and the decimated bodies, still alive,
but not wanting to be, and could you or I be
that brave, come home broken to a nation that
does not acknowledge their own sons and daughters
ready to clap in chains or kill those who believed
they were fighting for freedom.

And Reality stares you in the face, unblinking
We still do not see, still do not hear
the thronging of angry, desperate, hungry voices,
    not for vengeance but for JUSTICE

The Republic crumbles. And is this the
end game, the trash heap of history? Or maybe
the slow descent into anarchy