The Night of the Mailed Fist

By Lynn Ockersz

The Jackboot’s merciless stamp,

Like a firebrand searing naked flesh,

Shattered the sweltering darkness,

And crushed with malign insanity,

The blossoming Nation Plant,

Which shone with rich possibilities,

And spread the stirring fragrance,

Of never-known freedom all around,

But the spectral figures in black,

Had no doubts about their brief,

Which was to remind the doleful isle,

That the Mailed Fist will never relax.