Like a bird that lost its nest, they wander around in pain and distress. Like a king that lost its chest, they ponder perhaps going on a quest. Crying out their aging agony for their lost rights, like Adam looking for his mistress.
With peace as their outcry anchor, they pleaded for a stop to the misery and pain suffered at the hands of the powerful SARS. They allowed not their voices to be muffled, their cry not suppresed by the cock of the gun. Brave and willing to fight, like a lion that protects his pride
Unalertedly, their peace was turned into a pool of blood, their heaven into a hell. Blood flows like a river that lost its way. Souls of the righteous were all taken,by the ones who control the land.
The land feeds on its people’s blood, failed to be their Jerusalem.
A tolling gate turns out to be a heaven gateway. Painful, I say, painful!
Like an injured lion that ceases not to pride his pride.
The outcriers never stop fighting for their rights.
As bodies covered in blood lie, the living hope for a better forenoon.
Like Joseph who dreams, they eye hope and safety.
The dead may be dead but they live on in everyone’s heart, like an ocean that never runs dry.