Tuesday, May 21, 2013
Fly Precious Dove
There are pain within these walls,
there are scars etched within this flesh.
There are stories to be told,
the lessons I have to learn has yet to be revealed.
So the dove grew wings and learned to fly.
Seen a bush burn before me,
I have seen the world burn to flames.
The walls of my home coming down around me.
I heard a dove dive,
wings beating against the strong current of the wind.
To love and to learn to forget,
they always tell me that time heals all wounds.
But that's a beautiful lie,
it can't heal over 200 years of oppression,
thousand years of mass genocides and false assimilation.
The dove is stuck,
it is afraid to lift its head to the sky that speaks of unyielding promise.
Sky whispers to the dove,
but its words gets lost in the wind, who violently pushes against the dove.
The vicious wind began to tear at the wings,
pushing its body back, bearing an innocent chest and an open neck.
The wings scarred,
the dove can no longer breath with the wind stuffing its mouth with lies,
feeding it unimaginable horrors and
Neglecting the sweet promise of death.
It is broken, bent out of shape...
It dares not lift its head up for the sake of its life.
The threat of violence and the stench of fear,
so thick like smoke crawling in, filling your lungs till you no longer remember where you come from, who you are...
But this is our world, its the reality we face,
the deadly lies spoon fed to who,
a monstrous cycle reoccurring over and over again...
Fly precious dove