Wednesday, December 11, 2024

Home Of My Ancestors

Home Of My Ancestors
© Surazeus
2024 12 11

I see the world the same as no one else 
so I will scatter words upon the ground 
and tend them with the tears of lonely souls 
so they will blossom into trees of fruit 
that feed our spirits with ethereal dreams 
till bomb blasts wake us and we stumble lost. 

Just because my grandfather built this house, 
and several generations of our clan 
have lived here one hundred and twenty years, 
does not mean we should leave our hearts attached 
to rooms haunted by our sweet memories 
for our photos have fallen off the walls. 

Though we have never traveled far from home 
more than fifty miles any way at least, 
we can take this opportunity now 
to see the world beyond bounds of our hopes, 
exploring lands where no one welcomes us 
so we keep moving down the signless road. 

The treasures of our family memories, 
toys we played with when were little kids, 
books we read by the fire on winter nights, 
photos of our together happy times, 
presents we gave each other out of love, 
these priceless things mean nothing to us now. 

The world I see with eyes of bitter tears 
is different than the pretty world you see, 
so though we seem to exist on one plane 
we dwell far away on parallel worlds, 
divided by our faith in honest men 
who drive us away and steal all we made. 

Though people tell me some lost prophet said 
arc of the moral universe is long, 
but it bends towards justice, and this inspires 
my heart with hope that I can reacquire 
home of my ancestors stolen from us, 
yet I think this arc bends not fast enough. 

If no judge in any state court of law 
will rule deed of my home returned to me 
and thieves imprisoned for their heinous crime, 
then I will gather army of the lost 
to fight the tyrant on false judgment throne 
in revolution to right every wrong. 

When on the field of battle we charge forth 
and I am shot by bullet of despair, 
bury me by that house long burned to ash 
so I can claim that I have returned home, 
then eat apples that ripen from this tree 
which grows now from the sorrow of my heart. 


1 comment:

  1. Orpheus finds burned-out ruins of the house his grandfather built, and sifts among the ash for half-burned photographs of people whose names he has long forgotten.

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