The First Martyr
Tuesday 23rd August – Cleansing my Sins
As I lay on my mat, face down, forehead on the ground
Trying to hear for a sign, but there’s never any sound
Will I cause more distress? Or will I show a new path
Hoping to finish this mess, As I bathe in my bath
So much tension and friction, I can’t help but cry
The Government hates our religion, I ask myself why
We can’t compete against the country, we’ll just get beat
I led a life of peace and love, so why am I feeling the heat
Gently place a robe on myself, and enter the bathroom
Pick up a comb and belt, and my hair, I easily groom
So nervous, so confused, don’t know if It’s right
As I place myself to bed, for another sleep depraved night
Don’t know how to act…
…will it be seen as courtesy
They storm in a pact…
..and kill Buddhists with no mercy
So many hurt, so many dead…
…but why do I choose to cry
As I stay thinking in bed…
…is it their power I despise?
No! Their acts are full of sin!…
…but they love to bring us fear
Crush our hopes like a tin…
…I feel like the end is near
Pray to my god, but nothing differs…
…start to lose my faith in this mess
As I rest, I think of calm things, rivers…
…beaches, anything, but my distress
Wednesday 24th August – The Start of the End
I wake up, feeling renewed, and now face a new day
The blue sky I left behind yesterday, has turned gray
Shaking off doubts, I think positive, to achieve my goal
Although my body may be burnt, you can’t destroy my soul
Prepare my last breakfast of my life, and think back
On my past, the strife, and the love I always lacked
This is the start of battle, I say my last goodbyes
Wonder into the desert, that’s a barren, nothing but dry
My goods are packed, and I’m ready to travel
My wrinkled feed, grazed, on the hard road made of gravel
Am I a slave to this game? Am I digging an early grave?
But nevertheless, I carry on, stay focused, stay brave
How many more need to die…
…the streets are riddled with blood
When will they realize, open their eyes…
…there is no peace, or love
The Government should take action…
…but all they do is laugh in our face
Cause they’re members of the faction…
…that shows nothing but disgrace
The travel is full of pain…
…but the sacrifice must be made
All my people will be slain…
…50,000 may die, if I don’t offer the trade
My life for many innocent victims…
…I must give one last gift
Eliminate all possible symptoms…
…so the country, can lift
Thursday 25th August – The Sacrifice
I have traveled for days, and am almost there
The rough ground has left my feet, hard and bare
My body is weak, numbness in multiple limbs
One week has passed, As I walk, singing a selection of hymns
I cannot talk, no more energy left inside
I think of lots of poems, that I use to recite
I made it to the town, It’s more beautiful than I thought
I have hardly any goods, compared to the ones I brought
Prepare myself for the pressure and pain
Because in this game, there's no room for leisure and fame
I sneak somewhere I cant be seen, and act subtle
Put on my robes, light the match, and take the beer bottle
I step into the middle of the city…
…and I soon catch the towns eyes
As I attempt this holy suicide…
…people begin to realize
As the liquor pours over my head...
…I think not about death
No matter all the tears shed…
…I think about the legacy I have left
Light the match and watch it burn…
…I can feel the heat
Light myself alight, but I will return…
…to the people I have hurt, and greet
Them with a friendly smile…
…and all the fighting will seize
We have won our trial…
…a country full of utmost peace
After all the violence and bloodshed, its my name they mutter
The peaceful, moving and loving First Martyr
.
.
all dates, and events leading up to this mans, brutal, yet completely understandable suicide, are fiction. But the suicide, and this monks death, is completely real, and so is the photograph taken and prsented in my OM.
uppin for some feed.
Reply With Quote
Originally Posted by +AffIzIaL+
. thanks for the feed homie.