Their skin bounced back essence to the sun. All clothed in flowing dresses, they walked softly moving through the green thick forest. Animals from the regressed to the wild free stood still watching the people quietly breeze through. Silence all around. Where were they going?
Four seasons ago, their king had invoked the god’s anger into their land. Though long gone and buried, his sins was being paid with the blood of the young children of now. Fathers lost hope: farm lands empty with no farmer to fill the soil with seeds. Mothers prayed to the gods for their children to see the rising of the next day.
“The days of sorrow are here, god’s retributions will follow our people till the very ends of the world till a way, our way, is regained.”
We the new generation feel the pain of our long forgotten people in our very bones that is why most of us seek but do not find. We are kings and queens all looking for our misplaced crowns. We wear clothes but walk through life naked.
Listen to the cries of the lost warriors, on ships they laid, their bare skins pricking woods. Their faces peering through hoping to catch the sun before it settles.
You fight, we fight. The struggle remains. We are pharaohs looking for our ancient city.
The mad men of this world will not bring us answers for their souls has been quenched by the blackened black oil called greed. Look around no one has the path to our way, the few who do are locked in the trenches of man-made hell.
Supplement but never compromise.
Life is one has we all are; unique enough to be distinguished from one another.
Differences never made the better man.
Wherever the head rest know the foundations have been mixed by elements that will remain till the coming of our way.
Yes, yes. Can I truly say the beayoutiful ones have not yet been born? Where is that generation that will be bring water to quench the thirst of my people? Are they here? Living amongst us. Or is greed, our greed killing every hope they hold.
I have no answers only a drive to seek my own.