In England’s land where tyrants fell and common men once broke their chains,
Now silence is the price you pay for daring words or lawful claims.
No crime declared, no jury trial, no proof beyond a neighbour’s spite,
Just speak too loud, or wrong online, and vanish in the dead of night.
You need not steal, nor break a law, just “nuisance” is enough today,
A whisper from some slighted soul, and speech itself is swept away.
The orders come in courts of grey, with rules that bend and redefine,
And if you break what none explained, you’ll serve the punishment in time.
For social posts, or standing proud, or marching where you’re told not to,
You’ll find yourself behind cold bars, for things the guilty never do.
No warning bell, no battle cry, just forms and codes and silent fear,
Where freedom once stood armed with law, now cowardice commands the gear.
O England, isle of stubborn pride, of Milton’s pen and Cromwell’s stand,
Are we so frail that speech alone now shakes the pillars of the land?
Did not your fathers face the Crown and bleed to speak without a leash?
And now their sons are muzzled fast for daring truth in public speech.
The chains are silk, the jailer’s kind, the rules are passed with smiling face,
But Justice walks with blinded eyes, and Reason weeps in her disgrace.
This isn’t peace, it’s ordered hush, a nation lulled to slow despair,
Where every voice must ask permission, every word must breathe with care.
Beware the state that seeks respect but cannot earn it through its laws,
That cloaks control in noble terms and finds in freedom all its flaws.
So rise, descendants of the brave, who faced the axe for conscience free,
Let not your heritage be sold to buy the chains of tyranny.
(By John Shenton)