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Rumblings and a Burial

November 18, 2016

By Luchie Maranan

There is lingering wailing for the dead

They who were snatched in the dark alleys,

Pitched into the dictator’s fields of blood.

There is boundless grief over the passing

Of those whose eyes were forced shut,

Memory erased to delete safe houses and torture dens.

As if lament for the unforgotten names

Can be wiped like stubborn stains

By the unrepentant tormentors striding

The corridors of power, reclaiming their throne,

Dipping into the bottomless pit of their loot,

Oiling their cogs and wheels to ram down justice.

There is seething, overcoming rage

Seeking retribution for our dead and disappeared.

Ours is a continuing story asking to be retold,

Our is a wounded history seeking not to be repeated,

There are cries that cannot be quieted because

Heroism twisted, redesigned is replaying untruths.

Be warned against mocking an ocean of wrath,

The rumblings and tides of wrath will wash over

A rite’s proclamation of a hideous beast whose

Sham glory and infamy cannot be buried.



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