Today in solace, but I don’t know what tomorrow might bring
There is a voice in me
A staunch voice, with a daunting task to break the dead silence
This voice, rattles, it yells and moans all day and night.
It whispers into me and my ears can no more take the brambles
The voice, the voices I can’t ignore for fear of the rotten gallows;
Because in my guts, I hear the tortured souls,
I hear the sounds of the prison doors banging behind them,
I hear the dusty boots cranking on their heads,
I hear drumming of batons on their innocent bodies,
And at night, the mosquitoes sing unending melodies to their severed nudity.
I hear the voices, their songs to raise the fallen pillars
These voices, the songs of the dejected mourn the death of democracy
But we, what have we to give back aside from ignoring their calls;
What have we in order to regain the lost emerald?
We think we are contended, we think that we are safe because none of our siblings have their voices raised to us;
We are today in solace but we never know the direction of the wind;
We give our backs to their cries
And we pretend that we don’t hear or care about the voices,
But we know not when the wind might turn around
And this time, we don’t know whether the whirlwind will wither our own flowers;
That moment when our bodies will in turn be baked by them,
And this time, who then will listen to our voices when we cared less of our fallen comrades?
We are today in solace, so let’s endeavor to listen to the innocent voices;
And together strive to erase the turmoil from our midst.