O my sad country!
How I weep.
How low is my head, hung down in shame; for
Over the horizon are dark-winged birds
Who seek vengeance.
Is the fight worth the failure?
When did I stop loving you? Was it before
Each soldier went to war, before
Every lock was shut against its door?:
Pitiful country, mine.
Fire burns in our hearts to love you.
O'er those burning ramparts,
Rays sink down below the snowcapped mountains majesty.
Year after year we have sunk until we are seated
On the bosom of despair.
Under the water, everything is dangerous.
Author notes
This is a political poem, and also an acrostic.
Written for Creative Writing Poetry Portfolio.
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