A Crossroads for Iran

When missiles fly

The Mullahs lie

They bide their time

To turn the tide

Their constant bluster

Now short of luster

For why we ask

No God sent task

To build a bomb

With feigned aplomb

Their word to spread

Among the dead

They have their place

To find God's grace

Not trample lives

Like stinging hives

Fear and temerity

No road to prosperity

But that's what they seek

Control of the meek

A proud nation with tales of old

A proud people who once were bold

A history where feats abound

A long lost empire to astound

Time for Iranians to now earn

That for which they clearly yearn

Freedoms tenuous flickering light

Now in their grasp in line of sight