I hear the echoes crying for the sun
of dreams discarded by dreamers long gone
of ideals mutilated by greed and power’s lust
of bloodied heroism that no one cared for
of youth’s rotting idealism in exchange for daily living
of trust cuckolded by honorables and holy men.
Despair grips the cloudless sky
as the muted field wonders how long before the cranes come
while hawks float overhead stalking their prey
and silence waves over the eternal grass
in testament to life and living.
The end and the beginning must be met with hope
but division, hatred and social warfare
have reduced the believers into petty brats
whose priorities are I, me and mine
and the rest can go to hell.
Cast me into the quiet of prayer
and open my eyes only in the gentleness of the moon’s light
the sun creates tears even from El Nino’s drought
and withered flowers are but for the dead.
I will rest by the trees’ shadow
in search of rebirth in a diseased country
long after new heroes are born and die
as sacrifices to freedom’s unquenchable thirst
while those left behind continuous to squander another chance.
There are no more lessons to be learned
by brains dulled by hunger and hatred
as arrogance embodies power and privilege
and the lonely farmer tills the barren land
if only to make his life worthy of death.
Philippines, thy dire country
of a people lost, divided without direction
full of hypocritical righteousness in each other’s honest indifference
while tomorrow is stolen right before their eyes
when will the dawn come if only tempests rule?
Too late for honor, too late for valor
too late for the young.
Perhaps the past will come to life
and recover the people now unknown
and start again from the Orient’s Pearl
to Asia’s First Republic.
RISE, PHILIPPINES, RISE!