PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Up yonder, the man in the moon shines,
On black forests and rivers clear.
Your air was fresh, my mind recall greens.
Mint mountains boasted of sweet streams.
In my child's eye, your lush beauty reigns.

Then pollution choking your breeze began.
Men, not age, turned your rivers murky,
Trees declined, browns battled with your greens.
Peaks turned gray against dull skies, streams muddy.
In my grown eyes, your desolation wins.

Smog ride your clouds,never coming down.
Poverty spread shacks along rivers,
Loggers colored black forests brown for good.
Mountains dried up, your streams yield no waters.
I see now that you can't in the shallows drown.

Claims to regain your charm never won.
Today, shanties and stench line black rivers.
Trees are your men's enemy when grown,
Barren mountains crumbled from flood waters.
In truth, you've no strength to dream on.

I stayed for the sentiments in my heart.
My Philippines, you can no more go down.
You've hit bottom, with none left to impart.
Crying like a laughing circus clown,
With nothing to salvage but a spent art.

It's no use remembering your dawn,
Dear country of my innocence.
In my youth, you have drawn my hope, 

Which at present I recall with a sad mirth.
But why most you birthed still run home to you?

Land of the sun, what was done to your airs?
Why must we kill your lakes with refuse?
Pearl of the orient, I sense your despair.
You're left with but warmth from the carnages,
Of the servants claiming your chairs.

I salute the gone heroes who then believed,
I dream the dreams your vagrants not dreamed,
I smile at the lost glory days we relive,
I hope for your children whose hopes dimmed,
I pray for all, for me, for those who still believe.

Leftists and heroes alike think they know how.
But God alone, not heroes, can help you now.