The Revolution of Our Times
The Revolution of Our Times poem stories
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aristonia
aristonia What's the most painless form of suicide
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Hong Kong. I love you and I miss you so much... I'm sorry.

The Revolution of Our Times

It's 3 in the morning,

And she opens her eyes,

A nightmare is hounding her

And she can't close the blinds.

She recalls the misty scene

She had seen.

The days of the summer

Had painted her green.

The ghostly melody of the revolutionary song wavers in the air.

The distant screams and shouts covered it up.

Gunshots and fire crackling tears her brain apart.

When will it ever stop?

Tears turned into rivers of blood.

Jeers pierced their ears left and right.

The heavy metal on their wrists grows colder.

They have done no wrong.

White smoke whistled in the air.

Coughs and groans echoed in the streets.

While adults sit inside watching liars cover-up,

Trusting every word they vomit out.

The sound of water trickling

Could be heard in the midst of the battle.

Sirens of the corrupted slammed into the children,

How dare they believe they are the law.

So much blood spilled,

So many lives lost,

So many children scarred.

What for?

A long lost dream,

A long lost hope,

A long-forgotten justice,

A long-forgotten democracy.

But in the end,

The devil herself would succumb

To the threats of the bear,

Forgetting her people and the promises she made.

And here I quote,

'She says she prays,

That she's willing to hear the cries

But how can the blind ever repay an eye for an eye?'

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