A CRY FOR JUSTICE

A CRY FOR JUSTICE

In broad daylight, the sun went down on the mountain, the weather glowered as tears trickle down the heavens in a still wind.

The birds of the air had returned to their roost and the animals back to the wilds in grief.

The aquatics had gone deep down the seabed

and the rock badgers back in the cliff all in mourning.

The jungle was still as though there was no wind to whirl the trees around and the Earth as calm as a millpond as it gyrates swiftly.

Then from the wilderness came a foggy squawking voice which no one could discern, but being perceptive, I was able to understand as it pronounces:

A mother bird has lost it chick.

A dignitary life has been cut short.

A blameless soul has gone beyond the veil.

The wickedness of man...

Then from the other direction came another strange voice, crying and weeping in bitterness.

Its signal, no one could understand as the voice seemed to have been enfolded with sorrow. Listening attentively, I could hear him say:

My soul cries for Justice.

I was murdered in cold blood.

A precious gift I received have been taken.

'Justice seems to have been buried' unjustly.

It remains a 'bone to pick' and till then will my soul repose as I return home, to my creator.

"homines perdiderunt, et mater terra adepta est"[Latin]

06.12.21 | 22:13

Educational