the land is dark, all hope is lost,
our wondrous world, this war has cost,
devoid of human touch and love,
denied a place with god above,
our bodies trapped beneath the soil,
our souls enslaved to work and toil,
bound by chains we cannot see,
denied the right to be set free,
we exist without free will,
born without this wondrous skill,
we must live and never die,
denied the right to even cry,
perhaps one day an end will come,
freedom, if only for some,
to start again, this world of ours,
restore the water, trees, and flowers,
to regain all that we have lost,
for that we would pay any cost,
to live and love, to work and play,
to see the sun begin each day,
alas this dream will never be,
reality for all to see,
we shall remain eternal slaves,
to do that which our master craves,
all I pray is that this dream,
lives on and on, an endless stream,
within the hearts of everyone,
in case true justice can be done.
Nekatu Poetry © Arik Fletcher