Blind Country

BLIND COUNTRY

By Reggie Ibarreta

My beloved country is on the states of whimpering

Wherein everything would become a prey of difficulties

In the matter of life and gasping

And from the afterglow of continuous crying.

Some says that we lived in a blind country

The country of pitiful and unending blindness

Whom becomes noted because of vicious killings.

I want to outcries my distress from you

Oh, My beloved country

because, we became the nest of all terrible birds of prey

Those that fearlessly succumb our vulnerable innocent livings.