Who baptized, my, lost “Pearl of Antilles”
With a, past of pain, and present, of fear
A gangrened state, ever rots, never heals
From a, faith, wounded, beyond, repair!
How long, would we curse, colonists, for our ills
What legacy, have we, built for us
In the, fiefs of, warring gangs, whose blood, who spills
Between, hunger and hate, what is, more hideous!
Who invented, ethnic divide, between brothers
And the, rot in, every institution
In every street, raped daughters, and, mourning mothers
Dare and bare, their men’s, conviction!
Haiti, my love, where is, alas, your glory, lost
Why you, sank in, time’s quicksand
Is, price of love, greater than, war’s cost
Why Bleeds, The Ethos, Of My Land!
© 2022 Vikas Chandra