I find solace
In history
But I am in sheer agony
Knowing how great this world trodded
Once upon many moons ago;
How green and grey could get along
And liberty was a foreign word
Due to the abundance of it
And the ignorance to captivation
And slavery
And governments.
I am mortified
By the very notion
Of what our planent has evolved into,
For we give no God reason
To feel pride anchored in his heart
As he bestows eyes upon his craftsmanship.
This is not what we were meant to become.
Or by the prophecies,
Perhaps we were.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A timely theme to deal with. Wonderfully rafted, questioning aptly. Thanks for sharing.