The essence is freedom
But the torn pieces have cried out for so long in pain,
Victims of brutal warlords
Lording it over bodies and souls
Deaf to the word of love
Dealing out death blows
That nearly killed the glow of life
Making all to believe it was nearly over
The worst in the masses was invoked,
The dark face merciless
Became the bloodthirsty god
Amputating bodies and minds
Into hideous relics of the age of terror,
Page of the beast
Written in thick blood
Ink of the dark brood.
Conscience was nearly slain
In the school rooms grooming killers
Causing healers to flee
Leaving vacuum in which the blood bath raged,
Unleashing agents of doom
Casting aura of woe over country so fair
Overrun by lawless hordes
Sending underground the river of light
For above, all was blighted
In the game of ruthless ethos merciless.
At long last, even the gory impulse gets to anti climax
Jerking and twisting in its dying throes
Last kicks of the devil's dance
Creating pauses that give a chance to peace,
Permitting the exiled pieces to come together
To fast out the killing impetus
And resume the healing song,
Tilling the stone hard hearts
To unearth the golden dawn of love,
Only ray on which the new day can appear,
For Liberia to write a glittering page in world history,
Following stories of hairraising bestiality.
Post a comment
Your Information
(Name and email address are required. Email address will not be displayed with the comment.)
Comments