I don’t want to mourn my people
Not the living nor the dead
I don’t want to fight
The coming of the beast
That carries deadly dread
I don’t want to have my babies
Grouped among the marked
For fighting ancient demons
Who reside in shadowed hearts
I don’t want to leave my mission
Nor run dark thorny paths
Nor retreat into survival smiles
Behind masks and hollow laughs
I don’t want to fight flesh caverns
Of those riddled with putrid hate
I don’t want to guess intentions
Of those who think they hold my fate
I don’t want to give up basking
In the bright sunshine
I don’t want all of those
Who’ve left me here
To ever leave my mind
I don’t want my blessed ancestors
To sense my shards of pain
Because I could not do enough
To stop Evil’s cursed refrain
All I want is peace and time
To behold beloveds in my eyes
To pluck some dreams left on the vine
Create a story that will live and fly
I don’t want to have to write
That I don’t have the right
To live with all my might
To move around this great wide world
Radiating light
Regina YC Garcia, June 1, 2020
The writer is shaped by the air, the cries,, the tears, the sighs, the laughter, the morning after, the love, the despair, the need for repair… Most of all the writer is compelled by the “fire shut up in her bones” (Jeremiah 20:9 NIV)
