In sequoia majesty, peace spiraled
towards the heaven---
till fallen by the blade of injustice.
Behold---
at her wake no mourners came:
apathy sheds no tears.
The cold mound---
her grave lays forgotten
like a desiccated womb.
Pregnant time awaits a new peace
coming---
gestating in the dawn of a new day.
Eternity is an earthy myth: peace---
her bastard child---struggling to survive;
still born hopes await resurrection:
who will save the bastard child?