Standing in abyss with two rags to my wrists <br />No scores settled with empty clenched fists <br />In this battle between 'the sense' and 'the rage' <br />The crescent and star and the colourful cage <br /> <br />I've travelled through valleys so empty and green <br />I've tasted the dust from the wind swirling plains <br />Through the drunken towns where morality weeps <br />To sleepy villages where normailty sleeps <br /> <br />In paper of one and of the other a colour <br />The Clink of Big Brother to the land of my Mother <br />The hazed orange ceiling to the clear open skies <br />I sit and wonder where my heart really lies <br /> <br />I've broken many walls in renegadal pursuits <br />But the decaying lies within the roots <br />Hence no vigour in these twisted up-shoots <br />A scorn strucken tree without any fruits <br /> <br />I'll scavenge through wastelands of shattered dreams <br />To find the road middling between these extremes <br />I'll kindle a fire to these disparate regimes <br />Dry out the bitterness of patriotic streams <br /> <br />Seeing the world through the loops of these chains <br />Nothing is clear but the brutal remains <br />A dreamboat caught between sporadic waves <br />No shoreline horizons to embrace <br /> <br />I'll loosen these rags as the fire craves for fuel <br />Dwindling by the ill wind so cruel <br />Should I watch it dwindle and search for the knotted rope? <br />Or should I let it rekindle - for a chance of New Hope<br /><br />Omar Ali Sabar<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/flags-or-rags/
