Here we were, hundreds and thousands of us. Marching side by side, as we rumbled for our freedom.
Our echo’s bellowed, evoloping the streets surrounding Parliament House.
Our hearts poured raw, our spirits tears comforted the sacred land we stood upon.
Our tribe complete, but always welcoming, everyone from near and far.
Standing in unity for OUR futures to come.
The overlords above can screech their lashing lying words. For we are no fools.
We travel this land with our ancestors in tow. Hoping for a safer. Brighter world.
When our hearts pour raw. You will hear the cries of ancestors in tow.
This is our home, you serve us.
But who are you really serving?
For our hearts speak true.
Soft glow of phone, reflection in mirror. Dimly lit apocalypse. Chained in an ever encumbering stare. Always scrolling, never lonely. Sweet illusion, false idols, empty ideas. Money talks, faces made of plastic. Self absorbed, scripted alibis. Botox here. Botox there. Self-sacrifices are the norm for such a chance to remain a modern delusion.