Pride Isn't Hopeful Anymore

Can I hide myself in a room?

Away from eyes and stone-hearts.

I’d shelter in my mother’s womb,

Now I’m exposed to bullets, my soul departs.

Can I go through this green road,

Like Orlando wanders around the hills?

I feel trespassing my abode,

“Hope” is with feathers but cuts my wings.

My government seeks for power now,

My family denies my existence,

Is there a sea for rebirth, and how?

Why is my existence an act of resistance?

Rainbow flags walking by,

Clouds leaving the sky, here is the sunlight,

“Come on,” one flag tells me, “let’s try”

I can’t hold their hands and falls the night.

Can’t I leave this room I’ve been hiding?

I’m shattered in my own mother’s womb.

Can’t someone prevent me from crashing?

My shelter is putting me in a tomb.

Is this supposed to be living? I’m bleeding.

People are pushing me out.

The hatred seizes me in its web and tearing.

Trapped in this insidious darkness, losing my route.

Pride is a feeble word now and rejected,

Hope is wounded, stuck in a dark funnel,

Anthems are muted and left unprotected,

Poems are hurt, and prayers incurable.

This journey has become my doom,

Consumed my pride, my soul sighs.

Can I hide myself in a room?

Away from eyes and stone-hearts.