MY SONG
I
want to pour my heart into a flood of song:
The
song of the individual struggling
In
the midst of over-powering oppression;
The
song of slave and master;
The
song of man and mate;
Boy
and girl;
Mother
and child.
The
song that has for centuries been sung
And
yet remains unsung.
The
triumphant march of victory;
Of
Good over Evil;
Love
over Selfishness;
Honesty
and Cleanliness of mind and body
Over
Corruption, Depravity and Soullessness.
The
slow pavane in regal solemnity,
Portraying
the grief of a man
For
his own atrocities,
And
those perpetrated by his brothers everywhere,
Whether
in mistaken philanthropy
Or
openly degenerate vindictiveness.
Such
is my song.