The Land Of Promise
Often called the land of promise,
Mindanao my native land,
Her soil is wet with innocent blood,
The promises many but few are done,
Here stealth cunning warriors,
Are professed men of god,
Their decency turns refute,
For shedding innocent blood,
Anguish pierced deep in our hearts,
Even on calm starry nights,
Anytime in the city or the woods,
Barking guns shimmering lights,
Is there hope for tomorrow,
Will our wailing cease?
Will our children and their offspring,
Have the chance to live in peace?
Copyright © joselito rizaldo | Year Posted 2006
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