A SPRING TO COME
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