Fists High! Poem by Obed dela Cruz

Many years back,
All we aspired was perfection
When justice blooms
And truth prevails education.

Quite long ago,
Democracy promised freedom
Yet more of it,
Unrestrained, is where pains may come.

Liberation?
Oh, the cry of a thousand years,
And even more!
What resulted from all our tears?

Dear God… knock, knock.
Why did you save Ol’ Noah’s clan?
Why take Enoch,
And Elijah? What is Your plan?

A timetable,
That is what the Sovereign has.
Persecution
Is what we’ll all go through, en masse.

Yet, if I pray,
Should we remain passive throughout?
Or can there be
Guerillas–saints who’ll bring about

Your wrath to the
Infidels who defile Your will,
Misinterpret
Your precepts, using them for ill?

One day, You preached,
“Love your foes, care for your neighbor.”
Then afterwards
You held on the functions of war.

Well, as comrades
Who volunteered for Your conquest,
O Sovereign,
We salute You from east to west

Then march with fists
High above for nations to see
All You promised
Which were, and are, and they will be.