The figurine would not speak,
The seas one calm
The night is silent
Even the bushes are still.
Wars on those who cheat us
Mars on their visages
All that hate us
Forgiveness you taught
But without clarity of repeal
“Why do the heathen rage,”
The ill-bred horses still reside in the palace
Oh what a myth
Fables
Farces
And all we see;
We are the blind seers.
Clear the specks off our eyes.
The time of revenge
Avenge our blood,
No, preserve our blood
From every willful sucker…
The detractors cannot leave the land
We all must live here.
But wait, the flea and the beaten
Both in one-
Both the strain in the vein
Is sickening
Pali paya doko sile;
The stranger, the offensive
Exerting ownership.
King B.
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