There once was a land said to be free,
Where folks lived in broad liberty;
But alarms filled the air,
As rights faced despair,
And many asked, “How can this be?”
In less than eleven months’ span,
Came policies few could have planned;
With freedoms in doubt,
And protests about,
The public felt chilled to the bone across the land.
Some saw institutions decline,
As orders fell out of the line;
When courts were defied,
And watchdogs were tied,
The warnings no longer seemed fine.
There were fears over lists being made,
Where dissent could be wrongly portrayed;
Old ghosts of the past
Returned far too fast,
And trust in the daylight seemed frayed.
Reports of enforcement gone wrong
Made many raise voices in song;
They marched in the street,
With firm steady feet,
Insisting that justice be strong.
From agencies weakened and thinned,
To policies sharply rescinded,
The people looked on
At rights being drawn
Into battles none thought were intended.
Some whispered of shadows abroad,
And worried at actions untrod;
For when deeds are concealed,
And truth stays unhealed,
Democracy bends in the fog.
In spring, some had warned of the pace—
That norms could be swept without trace;
Though doubters said “No,”
The changes did grow,
And many now hoped for more grace.
As passports and freedoms were stressed,
And vulnerable people distressed,
The question grew stark:
Would sparks of the dark
Outrun what the courts could arrest?
So here we are, watching ahead,
With worries the past long thought dead;
We hope in the end
That courage will mend
The freedoms for which so many bled.
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