Roaring thunder painted black and blue
when all is reaching the apex of calm.
No daggers tossed, no guns explode
emasculating the possibility of a bomb.
Restless body, mindless thought
heed not the worry of those who care.
All around you with love in their hearts
weeping eyes so much pain to bear.
Give up? O no! that has no place,
no time will come when we'll give up on
you, but the ball rolls and the pins will fly
when the jubilant sounds of freedom
comes triumphantly through.
Written by: Melvina Germain
June 2/2015
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
(The Time Will Come by Melvina Germain.) **The anticipation of victory.