I dedicate these words
Cold, harsh, twisted words
To a tyrant now rotting away
In his own personal tomb of decay
Gaddafi sleeps in a pool of blood
A web of lies without any love
A country free from murder and force
Surely dictatorship ran its course
I dedicate this writing
Decadent, hollow, lifeless writing
To a heartless warlord full of nerve
To partake in practises most absurd
Gaddafi begged as the rebels shot
Execution was the only thing to tie the knot
Libya is nothing but a turf of land in joy
That a reign of terror has just been destroyed
I dedicate my life
Confused, eager, hopeful life
To an answer for a question that stings:
How does the spread of terror begin?
Gaddafi and Hitler will probably greet
As they share their thoughts of hopes to meet
Impossible aims of control and power
Yet their weakness is exposed in the final hour
I dedicate the world
Gigantic, naive, gullible world
To the hope of finding out why
Gaddafi had so wanted to live a life
Of bloodsport, suffering and genocide
World peace is now so far behind
An organisation called the UN is irony
Because world leaders exploit their tyranny
Gender:
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