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LAMENTATION FROM NO MAN'S LAND Amado Picardal In the middle of the night you appeared claiming to be our friend and
savior. With a gun in your hand you revealed to us why
we are poor and hungry. You proclaimed to us the good news of
revolution. We fed you. We shared with you the
fruits of our toil. We gave you our
brave sons and daughters. We believed and hoped you could give us a better tomorrow with
that gun in your hand. So many tomorrows have come and gone but we are still poor and
hungry and we have lost our brave sons and daughters forever. Our farms have become a
battle ground. Our furrows have become shallow
graves. What can we harvest when only bullets and bombs have
been sown? Since you came other strange monsters have
also appeared in our land. Like vampires they swoop from
the sky. We keep hoping this is only a
nightmare. We dread the barking of the
dogs and the knocking on our doors in
the middle of the night. We had to pack up and leave our homes and farms,
our
carabaos, pigs and chickens. We are exiles in
our own country. You told us political power comes
out from the barrel of the gun. Now we know only death, more hunger and
terror come
out from the barrel of the gun. We are the casualties of this protracted war and
this total war. The bursts and explosions drown out our cry for
justice and peace. You promised us a land we can call our own and all we got |