</>A sickening snap,
Not a limb of mine nor yours,
But something precious,
Much more prized
Than a thousand smiles,
Of the glittering stars
I could see it break,
And see it fade,
Dissipate until
Nothing is left,
Where did it go?
Those gentle hands of yours,
Always painted with red,
To keep me by you
Now pointed at me,
With a rifle in hand,
Your rage filled eyes,
Are those tears or just rain?
Let me have a second
To gently tuck the
Last of your touch
In the back of my heart,
I've made my resolve,
There's no turning back,
I will stand my ground
And be your doom,
I am no longer your brother,
Your son, nor your colony,
But to stand by you,
Shoulder to shoulder,
I am going to become Independent.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I have seldom seen fixed equality, perhaps it would be beautiful. Then again, I am a dirty socialist, ha. Interesting piece, few keep their independence, let it stay with you.