I will come and meet,
You to eat the meat,
Which the layman saw,
Yet the hunter,
Rather took the shot,
For the cries of the victim,
To start off.
Pain allowed became frail,
Whilst the fisherman set sail.
They cast the net from our sight,
Yet we can guess the sad plight.
The struggle for liberation.
It’s always a dream to be a Victor not a victim.
It may be normal as pain exist in nature.
Though it’s not supposed to be so,
Yet the victim’s cry is a triumphant cheers to the Victor.
Their world comes to a halt.
All their dreams and visions,
Their wildest aspirations,
Of building a self state of happiness,
Of freedom and continues success,
Come falling down like rainfall.
A victim becomes a sacrifice for all.
And my soups will always praise,
The hunter, the fisherman
©dacosta
D