Weekly poem

Sun Jun 05, 2011 9:41 am

An Eclipse over the Rising Sun

A bright sunny day, the birds in the trees the
twitter and
chatter is heard

The life is rejoicing the flowers are blooming and
all is as
it should be

Until that one dark hour in which we preserve ones
tragedy
in memories that stay from that moment onward

What we remember, true is this, the pain that a
body endures

More often then that of what one remembers as
happiness and
holds dear

So imagine a peoples, a body, a country, an entire
living
race

A giant wall that casts the looming shadow of feet
left to
be uncounted, maybe because one knows that it cannot be reached or
overcome

The sheer intensity and rush of that liquid in
which the
race would be sprayed

By whom? That which is thought of as superior

But what dictates this? Who knows can be said, we
roll with
each and every punch

Because after these tragedies are persevered all
that can be
left is to rebuild.