Concrete walls, and bustling streets,
all too familiar – until the 2nd decade.
From a soppy province,
into high ground and blanketed peaks.
How fortunate am I
to have chosen such a place,
in touch with nature,
a temporary home.
But as green turns to yellow,
and the dark green sea
fades into gray, blank walls–
the illusion of grandeur fades
as lanes and lanes of metal chariots
honks and dashes about.
Houses atop mountains,
sky-scraping metal bars,
clawing their way
into the soil of the Motherland.
I’ve seen the sky mourn for her,
heavy tears pouring as the sun bows.
Attempting to heal the wounds
caused by beings of flesh and suits.
Even so, it continues –
domains stood tall
upon the scars of the homeland,
upon what was once hers.
From yours to mine,
how I wish I could see
what your eyes did,
how you felt peering across
what seemed to spark
the turmoil and chaos within.
Yours was the rage of a legacy lost–
Mine was the guilt of a murder I never committed.
As I lay warm around wood planks,
I lay disturbed
Awake, but the silence whispers,
When will you? How can you?”
“Small, but steady.”