In certain countries of bondage,
Where literally life is cheap,
Freedom is never the rage,
While children constantly weep;
Where tyrants stay entrenched
In bastions none penetrates,
And soils of justice drenched
In the blood that contaminates
Humbled spirits that flow
Restricted, dammed and confined;
Where children never grow,
And eventually fall behind;
Where dreams never come true
When nightmares dominate,
Where there is nothing  new,
Except the tyrant’s estate;
Where predators stalk the weak,
Inhumanity being their creed,
And corruption at its peak
Must sow its evil seed.
Perhaps, in cruelty’s fields
Before the harvester’s reaping,
Justice may finally yield
Laughter in place of weeping.