Every day I silently pray that my soul will return to me.
Buried beneath the colonizer’s net,
Buried underground where even in silence,
Ear pressed to the ground,
I struggle to hear it.
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Every day I silently wish,
That when I wake up, it will be with a kiss,
Of the rising sun
Of liberation’s call.
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And when I hug it back, I will know,
Through symphony of culture breathing free,
That I can walk with love
And listen to the beating heart
Of the laughter of children.
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What does it mean to be free?
It is a taste I’ve never known.
Even as I walk in the open,
My soul lies underground, and my movements feel counterfeit.
And when I hug it back, I will know, Through symphony of culture breathing free, That I can walk with love And listen to the beating heart Of the laughter of children.
Wrote this while thinking about living in the imperial core, the way they try to shape people’s thinking to not care, unless it is a jingoistic support for empire; to view life in an individualistic, hedonistic way, devoid of any deeper meaning to it. The way patriarchy and other such systems try to shape people to bury empathy and normal emotion, and replace it with anger and aggression. And the desire to be free of that shadow cast over humanity.
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