The New Disorder

We were the children of the revolution,
We're the last of the past struggle,
We are the children of the evolution,
We are the day of fun, joy and emotion.
We cried the dark colonial disaster,
We're still crying blaming the master,
We're left behind quickly and faster,
How could it be; what the notion?? 
Oh! Brother, tell me what's the solution?
Oh! Brother show me how to be cautioned,
Should I regain the bush and kill the Bush,
Or should I melt into the fusion?
It's on its way they call it "order",
Making its day through disorder,
Crashing Empires, breaking the border[s],
They call it freedom without caution.
No king; no Prince, no spared Khan,
From the "Baltics" to all "Kistans",
Sooner or later it'll reach the "Han",
Is it right or an intrusion?
How could you then brandish your gun?
At "Patriot" you son of a Hun,
When millions of bombs coming in tons,
Engrave a city 
Without pity 
Killing the masses in a slow motion,
Is it people's will for war?
Is it the masters' call of whore?
All these massacres!...What all this for?
Politics of "Peace" exclusion!
Is it a fact or an illusion?
Just tell me brother with no confusion,
Is it time for peace "revolution"?
This is the problem, this is the core.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2015

Poem

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Book: Diverse Voices: The Poetry of Human Rights and the Pursuit of Peace