Plutonium dreams
Youth was also a spring that passed
and here I sat, watched and waited for her to rise
Enslaved, with their hands on her throat
I was helpless to free her
For her every sigh I sighed back
she did not hear me
but I heard her muted screams
My nation is an old lover you see
we never divorced
it was an unlawful separation
They shamed her
and pushed her seed to cold hard ground
these merchants of heaven and hell
danced on her children’s bones and graves
and I watched
So the talks are over
greed met greed
she was put aside
there is nothing to be said that was left unsaid
with plutonium dreams
they hope to plant an anchor for a thousand years
they hope to milk her for every drop of oil
make her prostate three times to their false Gods
make her bow and break her pride
and I watch
Sometimes the wind blows in our favour
castle of false prophets shape the desert sand
We can have our dreams too
so I watch and wait for my nation to rise
I have seasons left to keep this foolish love
Filed under: Art blogs
