AMPATUAN
In our march towards freedom and unity,
Shortcuts can never replace
Hard earned lessons put into place,
Or reap the fruits abundant in calamity.
In our desire to hold power
In the palm of our hands,
We concoct devices, plans
That even the devil frightfully dives for cover.
Nothing is left to chance,
So we separate the boys from the men,
Even if peace and justice jointly cry to high heavens.
Both are outweighed in the crucible out of balance.
The moment came somewhere along the way,
When the fuse just can no longer hold
The pent-up violence about to explode.
And when the triggers were pulled, mayhem ruled the day.
Fifty seven lives or even more
Is just a little token to the gods with insatiable lust for blood.
Then we cry to the highest heavens with tears of blood
And point accusing fingers to her who also loves to climb the sycamore.
We grieved even more for the innocents,
Especially those who had to join the caravan
To earn a little to stir the frying pan.
Little did they know that shooting them dead was just a petty inconvenience.
Now we have to wake up and make our resolve,
That the only way to do it right,
Is to set the fire of justice burning bright,
And never ever the bloodthirsty brutish liars absolve.
For time is running out on us,
To catch up or be left behind.
For repeating the grievous faults that make us blind,
Is like exploring unchartered seas without as much as a compass.
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