In a month …
Unkind words,
Veiled sight;
Stories lost
Visions no longer seen;
Dreams of a way
Of a time
Of a life
Blown away, dust
In a land losing soul,
Memories stolen and
Traded like coin
But coin no more whole
Than a Macquarie forced trade;
A heart and a soul
Dying slow
One less Dream,
Not beating
Not fighting
For ways long ago.
In an day …
Broken pacts
Fractured mind,
Unable to speak
Cannot leave;
Slipping from hardship
Based on race
Fed by law,
Still tearing
Still breaking
Her children
Her spore;
No longer her fight
No more shall she lead
Bow out
Leave in silence
Where once were her Dreams
Faded and pockmarked
But held more complete
Than offspring left wandering
Land losing its soul.
In an hour …
Man torn once again
Son gone meets his mother
Children stand, now alone;
Debtors and claimants
May come if they wish,
No booty
No treasure
Will they find in her fate;
Hardened by crisis
Two hundred in length
The years that had stripped her
Of what was her right;
Wonder we might
What went wrong
Why they fight
Just stop …
See the standards
Balanced not in white light,
Gone in an instant
Now polity rules
Where once was a leader
… and Dreaming shall lose.
by one of the Bacchai