You have bolted the moon
and the sun;
in the darkness of my room,
I’ll rekindle hope.

You have exiled abroad
all fledgling dreams;
I will fetch the lost sheep
in my hometown.

You have claimed the land,
divided into farms—
like tearing the robes of Christ,
crucified to death;

Just left Pandora’s hope,
a fool’s hope
is more than I need to stay
like an old cedar.

I have a country of my own,
away from politics—
in the innocent hearts of people,
the edible fruit of freedom.

You have blinded my eyes,
paralyzed my limbs,
and thought you burned
or bought my soul;

The remains of a man are enough—
like a phoenix
will rise; just when you thought
you’ve had it all
you forgot my will — INVICTUS;
it is enough.

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