Writings on the Wall

She’s terrified and can’t see the writings on the wall
She can only see her shadow which became very tall
An army of hyenas is charging from behind with stride
Her right to thrive by the her opponents was denied
Snakes and scorpions are lodging at her feet
To poison her heart faster they compete
She sees dark colors on the high wall
She realizes that she’s become so small
The night is long, dark and cold
Her body’s wet, tired and can’t anymore withhold
The arrows are deep in and the pain is severe
She screams the stabs but no one could hear
She can’t read the writings on the wall
She’s not listening to the truth’s call
Many are talking and the thunder is loud
Wicked whispers are buzzing from the hostile crowd
The disgusting worms, the ugly witch and the mean brother
To love her, be fair to her, or let her live they swore never
Who could, for her, decode the symbols on the wall
Before her desire to breathe and love begins to pall?
Who could lie to her and say the wounds will heal?
Who could give her hope and tell her triumph is real?
Who could promise her a new dawn? Is anybody trying?
Her eyes and ears are bleeding; does anybody care if she’s dying?
Does anyone know who built the pillars of the wall?
Who could see that it was the devil’s job to install?!
Does anyone know what’s on the other side,
and between what lives the walls divide?
Who is also concerned about the once-was great lady?
Who is also wondering how the truth became so shady?!

Caravan of Death

Lying letters were sent to the ancient city
Full of sorrow and deceivingly pity
Calling for guidance to stop the rage
And for the new world to set the stage
They called the brave and the chivalric
The only, the most free and the maverick
The caravan through the deserts traveled
To grant victory for the miserable battled
Autocracy, tyranny and oppression to be defeated
With liberty and justice the poor to be treated
So the prayers not to be facade and rituals only
And the righteous not in this world to be lonely
For us not be pharaohs and not to enslave the weak
For the rich not be worshiped and only with truth we speak
So our purpose is not to gain money and fame
And for us to see in the exotic life there’s shame
No monasticism and stinginess, and no waste and blink
Moderation and grey area where we always have to think
There’ll be no reason to commit the seven sins
And in our hearts humility over vanity always wins
The caravan continued on a steady pace
A world of betrayal it was going to face
The horses neighed and the driver chanted
All to God prayed for patience and canted
Knowing that the pure blood would be spilled
And with the children tears the river would be filled
They weren’t reluctant and they weren’t scared
They knew to heaven their right was declared
Caravan of death, how much I wished I was a passenger
How much I hoped I was sent to the city with the messenger