In the chaos,
the astounding pandemonium,
peace dawned.
Within the turmoil,
the violence spoke words
of freedom.
I dare not shine
a feeble torch on words written
on thick paper on occasions.
I dare not bring the ceaseless fire
to wither the words promising tomorrow
signed, sealed, and undelivered.
There is a pact forced upon us
by two of our organs
which often battle.
This time they are not rumbling
but wallowing together
in silent contempt
Smothered by resentment
and kicked in the guts
by a word better not said anymore.
The discordance had made unity
it had established
what we thought we lacked.
I will continue to speak to you
in my thoughts,
my home.
You are the only land
that I will ever own.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem