Ruins of Colonialism
Mural and Poem by Dr. Abe V. Rotor
Mural and Poem by Dr. Abe V. Rotor
Centennial, oh centennial, in what thoughts of deception,
Heart of steel, cold as Damascus before the lightning,
Do you offer to this nation trampled, yet your creation
Like others is to love and be loved, oh Pearls fore’er shining.
A rosy garden you painted, picked lei for each to wear
Around the neck yet bears still yesterday’s yoke and lock;
A rower chained, chime ringing from his feet with pain to bear,
Makes no difference to the sound at the dungeon years back.
Centennial, oh centennial, noble leaders at the helm,
Same skin of brown, language of old spoken, heroes revered;
Would doubt find a place in your hearts, to yield to shining gem
Strewn to blind you? Laments the land to loyalty severed.
Suffering within and from without the land bears the proof:
Rills to gullies, grandeur to ruin, galleon to relic,
Doings of Western craft abandoned on the shore and roof
Of a house divided, people fleeing, leaving the sick –
Centennial, oh centennial, silence’s supreme in tempest
When dawn breaks like any dawn sans its rays of noble past,
The day shall come to put the people again to the test.
When a bed of roses is tomb disguised with flag half mast.
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