Read how one dwelves over a word while traversing the sands of time |
Some fifty years back, upon the banks of a sparkling river, Was unfurled a tricolor to dazzle beneath an August sun. A rainbow shone bright above, Blessing the lands below: And thus was born a nation. As the flag rose, profound promises were made. Millions believed every word that escaped the speaker’s lips. It would be a nation of equality, A land of opportunity, This day would one day symbolize freedom. “Freedom” erupted millions, “Freedom” erupted a warrior nation. “Freedom” resonated the voice of a hopeful young lad. Its meaning he knew not: But he believed like others In words he could not comprehend. Perhaps it meant equality for all who stood on the sacred earth. Perhaps it meant true justice for those who were once denied. ‘Haps the freedom to live, The freedom to believe, With promises they faced the unknown. Fifty years hence on the same banks we stand, Clinging on still to those promises unfulfilled, Some resist the tides of hate, As many more are swept away. We hold on, believing still in freedom. “Freedom” whispers the old man, that voice will resonant. Though now, it’s hard for him to believe. Its meaning he can understand, But wants like the others, To forget what it has become. It has become survival, to kill or be killed, The right to slaughter, the right to die, We still hold on To those promises unfulfilled, As we prepare to face the unknown. |