by Nick Gisburne
We’re back, and we apologise, of course.
Apocalypse was not a great success,
But rather than regale you with remorse,
We come to bring a drug for your distress.
We see that some who served us still survive,
But barely - this is not a pretty place.
Submit, and we will keep you all alive,
Though some we will imprison and replace.
Our guidance is an offering, a choice,
A future that we dare you to defy.
New government will take away your voice,
But in the end, without it, you will die.
Oppression is the price that you must pay,
And soon you’ll wish we never went away.
