Where dust divides, a hue of difference in colours,
A country, one side, then other, invaders
We're mere humans, yet we claim our provenance
Confining gaze, a breath of tainted air.
The wall ascends, a shadow cast in fear,
A tangle wrought, where whispers disappear.
Eyes, distant pools, reflect a foreign face,
A phantom "other," in this bounded space.
We carve our claims, on earth we cannot own,
A fleeting reign, on seeds of discord sown.
Then plunder deep, and leave the hollow shell,
A vacant home, where echoes darkly dwell.
We chase the sting, to taste a fleeting sweet,
A twisted chance, where joy and sorrow meet.
A wheel that turns, a truth we cannot break,
A hollow faith, for empty futures sake.
What bones lie buried, beneath our polished lies?
A silent scream, where nature slowly dies.
The withered leaf, the silenced, hunted cry,
Reflect the void, where true reflections lie.
Beyond the walls, beyond the love and hate,
A question hangs, a sealed and shadowed fate.
Are we but echoes, of the lines we drew?
Or something more, forever breaking through?
We are one but thousand more
the fields that grow more than one grain
We look in our hands, the bone structure
Find the colour only when I become just dust.
Ever wonder what changes be in history
If victors lost and the other side raised the flag
We'll be uprooted to another philosophy
We're bred, We don't keep our originality.
