THE REPUBLIC OF CONVENIENT SONGS 

BY, BAPKEK SWARLAT BAPZENG {JOURNALIST}.

Every morning
the choir gathers,
Not to heal the wounds,
but to praise the hands
that keep them open.

The drums grow louder.
The conductors wave harder.
The anthem rises above empty stomachs,
darkened streets,
and forgotten graves.

SING.
And hunger wears
a borrowed smile.

SING.
And chains are
renamed bracelets.

SING.
And truth bends its knees
before conveniences.

In the market,
In the chambers,
at the shrines of power,
and in the courts of silence,
the same chorus:
“ON YOUR MANDATE WE SHALL STAND.”

Though pockets echo emptiness.
Though blood stains the roads.
Though hope sleeps.
With one eye open.

STILL THEY SING.
“ON YOUR MANDATE WE SHALL STAND.”

Hands on hearts.
Hearts in sand.
Eyes off the wounds.

From the gunman
to the statesman,
From the shrines to the Parliaments,
every voice knows the lyrics.

A nation standing at attention to the gospel excuses,
the religion of convenience,
and the ashes of everything.
A nation applauding itself
while standing ankle-deep in its own ruins.

Yet, the anthem continues…
“ON YOUR MANDATE WE SHALL STAND.”

Louder.
Higher.
Without shame.

And somewhere beneath the applause,
a weary people bleed
in perfect harmony.

Welcome to DEMO’CRAZY:

Same chorus.
Different voices.
ONE NATION IN PAIN.

By, BAPKEK SWARLAT BAPZENG {JOURNALIST}