He frequented the bars in Texas,
a drunkard living a life so aimless;
then he found his God in Jesus,
received a mission from beyond the skies:
'When you are king, let freedom ring.
Here was a man of destiny,
hailed king by a zealous party;
together they will seek and find
a treasure of Black Gold
buried in a foreign land.
Oh, how I loathed that man,
couldn't bear to say his name.
I was not the only one,
many more felt the same;
Now I pity that man.
He could've made a difference
in a world thirsting for peace,
but chose the path of infamy,
shedding the blood of many
to fulfil his 'allotted' destiny.
Is his God pleased?
Is the man blessed?
Is the world a safer place?
Ask the bereaved,
ask the dead.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Good question poised at the end. Do acts of violence make the world a safer place. Violence in the name of God, who are we to claim to know Gods will. Good write.