This is a time
yonder in that beautiful clime, when
the smiling coast, our home, is in chains:
the fetters of powerlessness
and the shackles of hopelessness.
For two decades, and more
a vehicle of expression
for a new sovereign reality
gives hope to a future that is hopeless
and a voice to a present imbued in silence.
And this is the time
when in the womb of hope
a hopeful future is born
and the future has a voice.
*
Unlike the land of the free
where the plant of democracy sprouted
its tender tendrils spread
in the sinews and bones of every citizen;
in the smiling coast, our home
the effort deliberate and conscious
to sow the seeds of a mature democracy
labors to take firm roots.
The ground of democracy is still unfertile
harden by years and years of drought
the ill-nourish seeds in its barren soil
yearns to break free.
And the voices of hope and of the future
gushing like torrents of streaming water
seeps deeply into the ground to make it fertile.
*
The voices of hope and of the future
their tempo more distant and remote
having grown tired and weary
now regain their energy and vitality;
And this is the time
yonder in that beautiful clime
the marches and protestations incline
the banners and placards inscribe
that a new day indeed is ascribe
the winds of change will begin to blow.
Rene
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