Phantom of the deep, ripe with sin.
Heartless as he speaks, a bully thrives.
From the glasshouse on high,
daggers thrust all who survive.
Ye are forgotten, ye warriors of the past,
devalued and lost, no monumental caste.
You did your time and paid your dues,
now a whisper and a word on the evening news.
Complain you will and that you must,
for support is waning in society's unjust.
Come forth dear fathers of battles fought,
let young ears open and be so taught.
O Masters of pain, where doth thou shine,
egoic temples portray your shrine.
Man of steel beget a sour face,
iron clad with no saving grace.
Shadows of manipulators in that intimidating pool,
hoping the strong withered to weakened fools.
The curtain has not closed and the weary still speaks.
Societies gorilla's bow down and think.
Lunatics reign with power and greed,
our people selected mucho dark seeds.
Pushing up daisy's coming together as one.
Let the pain lay beneath bloody ground unsung.
Written by: Melvina Germain
(c) journey of the soul (2014)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem