My Land

My naive young boys fascinated by the sharp edged shingles

My upright youth sleeping in their grassy graves,

My heart-broken grey elders struck with palsy of fear,

My bright and articulate intellectuals confused and vague

And me in wilderness, helplessly crying out in pain.

Weep my motherland the tears of blood and anguish.

Weep, till they choose to rise from their compelling slumber, and pave way for a new tomorrow– a tomorrow of peace and love.