Freedom at dawn
Freedom will surface,
freedom shall Africa face;
handwriting of the poor widow said,
"when will freedom come to pass".
Upon completion of freedom rights,
blood cried in solemn: saints gone,
beloved ones dead, parents lost
and "where's freedom" said the unbroken stone.
Take a look at that mourning ghost,
take a strange walk to mount abyss,
make some noise in the lions den
and freedom will speak of the feast.
Let all voice echo "freedom" till dawn,
children are held hostage in chickens tent,
positivity has been compromised with prize:
Freedom is frozen; freedom still won't come at dawn.
There are patches along this roadside;
some stitches can't last long this side;
many foot tracks will see no tomorrow:
when transparency have got freedom to tow.
The tears of joy roll as this freedom comes,
the fallen heroes merry as this freedom prevails...
the citizens at large mourning so high:
for this freedom has traveled far at night.
In the forest, lives no freedom nor fear,
but the hunter give out fear for freedom,
so varies many act fighting for freedom;
yet, in the eyes of those cruel soldier's rays fear.
©AUTHOR KELLY JUUZ
(A salient prolific author...)
14/01/2017
08: 28AM.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem