The Patriot's Sonnet V

O how gloriously sweet to sleep on Motherland’s chest
While the lively flag waves for love and unity at high
Where peace and hope are rising like sun in far East
And citizens, for the nation, they would gladly die,
Yet the countrymen still at confuse and ask: Why?
Why there live such persons who greed for power?
Then why there exist public servants who abuse?
Why there reigns corruption and great poverty?
Then why elect some if there’s nothing to choose?
Why war never ends from all the wrong impression?
And why tears of blood are the price for reformation?
O how gloriously sweet to wake up on Motherland’s chest
While the dying country breaks the chains of passivity
And where poverty is setting like a sun in far West.

poem by Raymond Cabrera
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Entitled Hope Mark I

Hope is the light that shines in our darkest nights,
The solely light which dispels our doubts and frights,
Hope is the wind that blows away our sorrow;
A strange wind which take us to a new tomorrow,
Hope is the water that replenishes our dying land
The thing which washes our souls and made us stand
Hope is the wellspring of happiness in our life,
The source of inspiration between continuous strife,
Hope is the cloth that wipes our tearful eyes,
This gives comfort to our endless cries,
Hope is the flame that burns in cold stormy day,
A fiery thing which gives warmth and lit our way
Hope is the burning candle of infinite sacrifice,
Of God’s absolute love that never dies
Hope…
Yet, hope isn’t just like that,
You, hope is what?

poem by Raymond Cabrera
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The Epithets of Poverty VI

I can see poverty...
In the eyes of the crying children,
In the the poor minds without any education,
To a person who have never known Christ
Families that were living from hand to mouth
To a man that has more appetite than food
In a boy holding a shovel instead of pencil
In beggar's palm begging some spare coins
In those thieves who were tempted to steal
Or kill someone just to take their valuables
A lonely person and felt being unloved
In a man who can't treat his lover on a date
To the unemployed worker consumed by laziness
To a rich man closing his company
I can see poverty, to all of those people who lose hope
To all the people who has no dreams in life
For no matter who you are; rich or poor,
We are all touch by the dreadful thing called
Poverty.

poem by Raymond Cabrera
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So Long, So long

Oh, dear friend, so long, so long
This we’ll be my last farewell, waving goodbyes,
The moment I rage; soak in tears my eyes
I spoke to you, so long, so long.

Time moves unease, so strange
I gratefully cry those words of sweet sorrow,
When you flip your hand over the open window
So long and remain unchanged.

So long to my sweet memories,
I pace awhile beside the seashore with her,
She softly said, “Nobody can live here forever”
Farewell unto her faded diaries.

Strife over the dying of the light,
Which ablaze my heart of unconditional frost,
But not until now that you’ve already lost
So long on the dead of the night.

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poem by Raymond Cabrera
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The Firefly's Fascination

On the flight of the moon to aflame the night,
A firefly's looking up to the light he much adored,
Seem a light of a firefly that he's longing for.

Her brilliant dancing fire,
The endless flashes of light,
Her dazzling face he desire
It was so bright,
so bright.

All he did by night was to look above
He never let his light fade just awhile,
He hopes to be noticed by her love,
Just see his light, then shine and smile.

The luminous rays of the skies,
The beautiful stars at night,
Her shining diamond eyes
It was so bright,
so bright.

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poem by Raymond Cabrera
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Justice is the One who gives Life on Me

For the people who seek for comfort or dead mercy,
Their fairness sob and yet still strife for their right,
I rage against the death of justice before it will be.

My eyes shed tears, my heart crumpled tenderly
Cries of beggar and poor who gleamed on my sight,
For only Justice is the one who gives life on me.

The soul who screams, murdered by hatred and fury,
By means of politics, they were killed and cause blight
I rage against the death of justice before it will be.

Such criminals must be punish and injured severely,
Either they’ll tell the truth or lie, a freedom to fight,
For only Justice is the one who gives life for me.

Unjust power, ways of government over sovereignty,
To rule the nation seeking in dark the hopes in light
Yet, rage against the death of justice before it will be.

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poem by Raymond Cabrera
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The Dirge of Musicians

Our two musical worlds collided by sorrowful destiny
Or perhaps it was a modest stunning rhapsody,
But I could no longer hear, her cheerful symphony
Full of enchanted rhymes that brings me misery.

The latent repose of hers, halt my guitar from the right tune
Where the wavy sound of my violin will be over soon
And this gloomy piece of notes contain a million,
Severely, I was now alone and started an eon.

The saddest strings of a singing harp pierce to me;
Lines on her face, full of melancholic symmetry,
Miserable emanation of orchestra were quite unhappy,
Why God did revoke her from me?

The accord of late romance from dawn to twilight,
Her harmonious smile gradually fading out of sight;
I use to sing with her like ethereal birds in flight,
So with her dazzling faint tears resounds so bright.

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poem by Raymond Cabrera
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Hear, Oh hear, Dire Poverty

Oh dire poverty thou breathe the deep poorness,
Thou from whose arms you have laid unlucky
Are suffering by certain fear of thy unhappiness,
Neither food, nor shelter, and no money;
Thou still hunger grows on dreadful houses,
Those gloom of dying lives on a sanctuary,

The frightful smiles within damp vicinities
Seeking for thy time to set them free,
Away from the presence of evil in cities;

Feel; oh feel, the cries of ravenous children,
Of citizens moaning o’er great famine
Hear, oh hear, if only you could speak or listen.

Thou embrace them of thy broken dreams
They desire to escape from nightmares,
Of grief, forlorn on smelly garbage streams

Thy cynical gestures for the hapless beggar

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poem by Raymond Cabrera
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