Driven From Our Land © Surazeus 2022 12 18 Where shall we go now, driven from our land by lords in palaces with powdered wigs who transform our family farms into gardens with statues in mazes where shadow demons consume our souls in clanking factories while our children starve to death in the streets? I feel their fearful anguish in my bones hundreds of years after they fled the land where our ancestors lived thousands of years to escape the tyrant in the glass palace who confiscates their land with legal scams so they sail old boats to the Promised Land. For hundreds of years they migrated west to escape tyranny of kings in crowns but they invaded lands where people lived to build new paradise on bones of gods till they all died as their children grew up who forgot harsh traumas of yesteryear. Now all their ghosts are haunting me this hour, rich lords who drove my people from their homes, my people who sailed across sea of storms and traveled waste lands to find paradise, and the tribes whose lands my ancestors stole, all groaning for injustice of desire. I cannot change injustice of the past, nor atone for crimes my forebears committed, but I can dedicate my honest heart to treat every person I meet in life with generous respect for their equal rights as we struggle together to survive. Where shall they go now, driven from their land by hordes of soldiers with rifles in tanks sent by oligarch of their nation-state to acquire more lebensraum for their tribe by killing millions of innocent folk to build car factories on their stolen farms? Yet we humans are not trees that grow roots which anchor our bodies to fertile land for we can walk away on motor legs to journey far around this spinning globe, and then we die and our bodies dissolve to dust that forms foundation of the world. We journey nowhere, driven from our land by displaced refugees from distant wars, so every tribe that wanders on the Earth follows their prophet with vision of hope for whom they name the fertile land they steal till everyone forgets who lived her first.
Surazeus Astarius Συράζευς Αστάριος. Cartographer. Epic Poet. Hermead epic poem about Philosophers 126,680 lines of blank verse. http://tinyurl.com/AstarianScriptures
Sunday, December 18, 2022
Driven From Our Land
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