Our Native Land
When this plague passes over
And we emerge from our arks
Let not the euphoria of seeing
The rainbow in the horizon again
Becloud our vision or deafen our ears
To the sound of heavy chariots from
The end of the spectral
From whence travel a people
In the direction of the sun rise
With boundless treasure
In search of new lands to sow
Crop and human seeds
Let us not stray far away
For these wanderers seek titles
They will come first as farmers
To buy our crops
Yet will not allow us a square metre
On their own soil
Their prisoners will dare to do
What our envoys dread to do in their land
They will pay bride prices
To become one with us
Nomads will seek to become chieftains
And will drink with primogeniture
Till they enter chambers of princesses
In the name of wedlock
And become lords of vast fertile lands
Which natives boast not of
We crave for civilization but
God forbids us allowing princes sell lands
Where dwell the bones of our ancestors
We shall welcome strangers but
Will not share our beloved land
With vile visitors
Lest when midnight comes,
There shall be no shelter
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
