(SALTY WATER FROM OCCULAR DUCTS)
I a proud warrior find myself weeping because you say you want freedom, yet in the end you pull back.
Conditioning some would say, such a pity as the children's bones cry from the ground.
As we survive on a killing field, such a travesty as we stigmatized make light of the situation.
These tears burning as they fall on a man's cheeks, rivers of time in mine cosmos.
Such a philosophical quandary, I warrior wondering.
So fucked up at the recognition that enemies, enemies sometimes exist in chained minds.
These tears cannot flow from a corpse but perhaps they can flow from a disassociated soul.
Can the ancestors cries be heard above the din, such a noise, such a roar.
Man falling to his knees, such a revelation.
JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY
