Friday, August 12, 2011

The Future

This is a poem not only about past errors but also present ones waiting to be made.

Red Black Yellow
No one to turn to.
No one to help you.
In a hypocritical world
We look to him for direction.
We find in him a solution:
Where actions become
The only form of thought,
There lies the virtue of sacrifice.
No one will deny
the purity of blood
Selflessly shed for this dream:

“When these centuries of struggle end,
Paradise will be complete.
Everything is possible.
We can change the world.”

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