A SPRING TO COME

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I have seen these flags before,

Of rage, disgust and shame. I have seen blades slashing the flesh,

Leaving millions and more maimed.

I have taken a whiff of burnt flesh,

Of many gasoline baskets on fire on the streets.

I have thought of children crying,

Of bodies gawking back at me.

I do not presume love or sympathy,

A kind eye or a hand in need. I yearn for fists now,

Of batons clashing batons in the streets.

I have burnt enough funeral pyres,

I have seen blood pour aplenty.

For now I call to arms,

The children of a sleeping beast.

The power that lay within thee,

The strength of a million armies.

I know not how to stay to quiet,

My voice quivers no more.

My fists are bleeding now,

My eyes are clouded with tears.

I have seen a million die before,

I cannot fathom a million more.

In this day and age of meagre musings,

I think of what has become of you.

A nation stifled in drums and screams,

And chants of an unkind lore.

I have heard stories of kings and queens,

Not those behind these guarded gates.

But the ones who stood by when the cavalry came,

With banners of their fickle faiths.

I may not be what you thought of me,

No shining armour I bore.

There was no marching bands behind me,

None chanted my name, none shall forever more.

I shall still remain standing here,

Long after the cavalry strode,

Long after the pyres have burnt.

I rue the day I saw the embers,

Of my comrades in red I saw.

I saw the cavalcade come and go,

I saw these kingdoms fall.

When my children shall open their eyes,

They shall see a tomorrow,

Not the ones that had befallen me,

But those where the caged birds sang free.

For that day, when it shall come to be,

I shall smile from where the world ends for me.

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Uploaded by Peter Horvath