Alala

Tue, 10/01/2019 - 16:54 -- Sam S

 

Let me tell you the story

Of a myth not known for glory, 

Of an idea that has been forgotten

And replaced with something rotten.

 

I’ve been told the gods are dead,

Lost from this land, or perhaps they fled.

And I learned about a goddess one day

Who no longer exists, or so they say.

 

But I have seen her.

 

I saw her face flickering beneath

That of a child’s, who with gritted teeth

Forced themself to tell their mom

What father would do when he wasn’t calm

 

I felt her hurt among those with which she stood

As they lined the streets of the neighborhood

With their hand-held speakers and homemade signs

Speaking up from the protest lines

 

I’ve smelled her trademark scent of spilled lifeblood

Among a group of people covered in mud

As they ran from the frontlines of the war

And the burning of their homes, they tried to ignore

 

I’ve tasted her desperation which you wouldn’t think would have a taste

But it does, found in every place with something to lose or something to waste

Seeping into wherever you can find desperate people

With clasped hands, no matter under what steeple

 

And yes, I heard her strong and loud and clear

From a thousand voices whispering and shouting in fear

From those who decided to speak up and ask questions we didn’t want asked

Even though they knew that it could cause today to be their last

 

Because there is a goddess hidden in each fearful eye

Alala, Greek goddess of the war cry

I have heard war cries whispered, and I have heard them roared

I have seen eyes harden and angry masses striking accord

 

Against common enemies and with similar goals

To win back freedoms and save lost souls

All the while, preparing their battle cries

For days when they’ll need them, when they could rise

 

So do not tell me all the gods are dead,

Don’t you dare tell me that she has fled.

Because I have taught you of a goddess today

Who still has a thousand things to say.

 

a-la-la

Listen for her, for she is every crowd,

a-la-la

Even in the silent whisper, she is loud,

a-la-la

And if you have something, anything to say,

a-la-la

Declare with her your war cry and enter the fray.

Alala!

 

This poem is about: 
Our world

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