Saturday, 24 November 2012

Philistine ; what fate is your's ?

Born have I to this holy land,
the holiest of land on this earth.
so they say it is;
Neigh have I seen any holiness till dawn.
Born have I to this Terra fir ma,
forced have I been to live in misery,
forced have I to embrace death each dawn.
philistine they call this terrain.
Each day I wake to death's cry,
smashing bombs have become melody to my ear's.
Each day I go to bed singing lullaby to my misery's;
Only to burden my soul to a half lie.
for I live in this perfect epitome of miseries.
Each day I see hearts that bleed,
of fathers who lost their sons to this bloody war,
of mothers who watched their kids swoon before them,
of children orphaned each day.
I look around , only to find mass graves.
A wretched nation do I see,
Alas! famished souls do I see.
Philistine what fate is yours.
neigh streets have been safe,
neigh dreamer endures to dream.
for freedom seems to be a distant dream.
Gallant warriors long have fallen by,
for many a nation mock at these patriot's fate.
Tired have I become ,
to live amidst these debauched soul's.
Ashamed am I , to see ye powerful nations;
unveiling thy nefarious sleights.
Misery is all I see,
hope have I lost to even hope.
for each day we play pawns ,
to the wiles of our neighbors.
Each drop of blood spilled on this soil,
have no tale to tell but one,
A tale of pain, misery and unending torture.
Peace do I long for;
freedom do I dream for:
Love do I thirst for.
Plead to thy ye nation's.
Plead to thee ye humanity.
who shall be our savior,
who shall quench this grief.