"A False Democracy"

This wild disorder confusing me
my eyes a fire burning brightly
in the dust lying on the ground
my weary mind where’s the meal
to whose expense for me who lags
lolling on a stool to rest and see
life’s sorrows cradled in death.

O why! If I had known the sign
to be the slave of Colonialism
forced by them to keep the rules
with pen and ink to write of how
refugees should bow laboring
below the early morning light
there to salute a Colonial flag.

Sergeant beating with his rod
stern the command to hurt
our deeply bleeding wounds
a reason for us to run away
trying to hide in the dunes
the fields a desolate place
beneath the darkened glade.

My wife and I starving thin
our weary bones exposed
wandering in the desert dry
seeing a Savior on the cross
will you come and save us
our stolen heritage a sign
stolen by a false democracy.

Where to now to find a home
a vision of our Jesus weeping
souls sorrows hands bleeding
there to rise with us to heaven
our resting place for eternity
saved slaves and refugees
in the new City of Jerusalem.