20
Aug
13

Refugee


refugee

Stealth through the darkness of a moonless night,
They stole their way by shrouded candle light,
Not knowing if another would see their flight,
Desperate to escape the suffering by their war-trodden plight.

Time and again the still quietness of the late night hour
Is broken by the muted thunder of advancing military power;
Each cannon-boom causing all to instinctively cower,
Wanting only for their freedom to eventually flower.

Long has been their suffering under tyranny’s rule
By dictatorial oppression meant to be harsh and cruel;
Propagandized from the moment they entered school
But, for these refugees, no longer wanting to be played the fool.

The path to freedom’s gate is arduous and dreadfully long;
Emboldened, all seemed more determined and quietly strong,
Marching silent, forward, toward peace and harmony’s throng,
Knowing deep within, this is where life-lived does belong.

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