A land thought pure--
An island of three
Where the sun only shines
On the highest mountain, there'll be.
A land thought pure--
Where voices in a cage,
Hands with putrid blood
From the tight grip of captured days.
A land thought pure--
An open opportunity?
Of obscure security
Shielded from freedom?
A land thought pure--
A bullet for a Sparrow,
Now within a box
Of a spell to awful morrow.
But haven't they seen
The blood on poor Sparrow's feet?
Where the bullet strikes in
After giving its defeat.
Guess the Sparrow also wants:
The bliss from the star,
Tress as for houses,
And the seeds when they starve.
YOU ARE READING
Wala Lang (a compilation of random poems)
PoetryTrip ko lang ibahagi ang nalikom kong mga tula mula sa aking imahinasyon na kahit ang iba'y malaya at hindi tumpak ang sukat at tugma ay nagbibigay ng ligaya sa puso kong uhaw sa pag-asa. CHAR! Wala lang...
