The Condemned (An ode for the victims of injustice)

Vicious and atrocious:
If all cycles of injustice
Are trials of misconception
Are in the hands of miscalculated weighing scales —
How shall an ill society
Ponder an ideal equality?
How can the voiceless be heard
When all have decided to close their ears?

No hope is gained
When one chooses to remain silent.
By doing nothing the evil triumphs,
Like an air with no wind
Everything becomes a display of mockery.
While every poor soul prays like a child —
All tears are droplets
Of contagious disease of feeling hopeless.

How can we find the cure
For this atrocious misery?
When one is about to die
And pray that justice is served —
The earth wakes up from its own eternal dream

That at the very last minute
A time of sentence
Is all but a futile attempt
To compensate the victim’s loneliness.

While it becomes clearer
That punishment serves no purpose:
Between heaven and hell —
There is a place we call…


When a child is born
And strives to dream and hope
For a better place to live

Justice is truly served.

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