Mother of ExilesBring forth from war-torn landscapes, valleys of the deadMother of Exiles1 week ago in Traditional Fixed Forms
And regroup upon my sanctuary
Across shining seas, beyond rich plains and mountains
Past golden gates stands Lady Liberty
Children, lay down your weapons and swim towards my shores
For you need to fight a war no longer
Let me cast your battle stress far away, for I
Conquer by sword, but my tongue be stronger
Fear not for my hand is a blade of swift justice
My eagles fly high raining fire, defeating
Hopelessness and oppressing forces approaching
I stand my ground with strength never fleeting
And by word I shall suppress the raging evils
Afar. I face insurgency, grinning
As I'm gripping faith and duty firmly, knowing
We may rest easy, my Sons are winning
A nation of ever growing strength welcomes you
Wary outcast of a country ruined
But behind my colors as vivid as ever
Be fields of patriot's paradise vision
modern slaveryprimitive days following behind modernitymodern slavery1 week ago in Traditional Fixed Forms
briskly sweeping up the dregs of humanity
gently calling, softly, sweetly, tempting
too easy to be caught sleeping
within a primitive way of breathing
anger deep inside is seething
teeming with the termites
determined to eat through to lights
day refusing to dawn with effulgence
bodies taught and tense
wondering if there's a point beyond this
seeking some sort of death's kiss
crisp twenties passed from hand to hand
yet we claim no slavery in this land
Inferno Revisited: IV - The Avaricious + ProdigalIV.i. The AvariciousInferno Revisited: IV - The Avaricious + Prodigal1 week ago in Traditional Fixed Forms
Too late our sins we sad misers repent!
Our words would fall on deaf ears should we pray.
We suffer since the only thing we spent
In life were years - built up each wasted day -
In frugal loneliness: wherein men try
To gather gold, yet throw their lives away,
Neglect the poor, ignore their anguished cry.
For never did we share material things -
And even less so, gifts that multiply.
Our long years lacked the joy charity brings.
We clutched at riches for riches' own sake,
Yet prices can't be placed on angel's wings.
Our choice was not to give, but merely take.
For this, the blessed ones our souls forsake.
IV.ii. The Prodigal
Our love of fashion was our deadly curse.
We wanted fresh, the popular, the new,
And used up every penny in our purse
Acquiring all that salesmen drew us to.
Their jingles echoed in our thoughtless minds -
Bland, useless wares we would madly pursue,
Wasting our wealth on pleasures of all kinds.