courtesy:
Beatriz Martin Vidal
We vanished into the night
walking among threats
held by the daylight
on feet that had become sore
from the pain of survival.
Grasping to sweet memories, long past
so to conquer the induced fast
exacted by hatred’s womb
then birthed by the chill of indifference…
Voluntarily, we locked ourselves in
from fear of our own kin
who deemed us unfit to live
in our shared lands
though we bled, loved and dreamed
just as they did;
assuming out of arrogance
that this world was their own
they fought and killed to govern alone
forgetting that at the end of it all
there has been only one ruler that ever stood.
Darkness became our friend
In the small spaces and tight corners
that were lent
to us by those who gave us hope
that the goodness in humanity
had not at long last
faded.
We shriveled into
unrecognizable creatures of despair
and desperately thirsted
for fresh ,open air
that once,
taken for granted
had now become to us
an unreachable luxury.
How many times did we cry?
till our tears evolved into
wells, refusing to be dried
then became floods of outrage
that mingled with the mockery of our own silence?
How many times did we ask
for this oppression to pass?
and sought answers to reasons why
it had been deemed fit to begin and continue at
all?
Our children will die
without even understanding the reason why
their life was hailed as meaningless
before crowds whose faces resembled our own...
Why was it
the blood in their veins
though one and the same
with others who reveled in
their destruction
without shame
was considered less human
to even let the round drops solidify
into guttural cries that were fit to be heard?
Our world sinks deeper each day
in this universal story of hate
that has surpassed boundaries,
colours and tribes...
indecently repeated by the history
we quote, honour, promote
the same we have learnt
absolutely nothing from.
Cycles can only be stopped
if just one has valour to stand still
and fairly admit that in the domino effect
of our lukewarm ill will
we share the blame
and bear guilt towards our own kind,
.humans...
Whom through our insatiable need
for superiority
have been by us divided
simplified, and categorized…
Stratified into sectors and numbers
to make our evil more tastefully applied
to polluted borders
already shattered
by our foul, reprobate minds.
Protecting what has never been ours to keep
selfishly rejecting before
wondering...
What if they were me?
When the answer stares
back at us steadily
from beneath our landmines
and empty shelled camaraderie.
Our meaningless pride
and the impending defeat
of power, wealth
and injudicious conceit
has trampled
the spirit of brotherly love
leaving us
the hidden ones...
in the advent of our own plight
and trapped in the pits of our own deceit.
#HistoryRepeats
#Whenwillwelearn
My Inspiration: The refugee Crisis
© KohylahPiper 2015
The Hidden Ones 2013 2nd revision
