Historical Fiction

It is distant, and yet close

This notion of a perfect world in which we live

An illusion that’s not transparent as you were led to believe

A truth lies hidden that only the filters of History

can make you see

When you play the blame game

On an international scale

It’s easy to blame your neighbours

For their social economic failure

But the reality isn’t always so

Black and white as school theories make it to be

There’s more to this superficial notion

That academics love to repeat

Take for instance, Europe

Our cousins from the north

Their close future is not ruled

By such distinct laws

The dream of a unified country

Pacified cousins fight no more

A common goal, a common currency

The final solution to end all wars

But what union can be born from repression and imposition

When the people’s voice echoes unheard in the streets

When votes cannot elect the president of the Commission

And there’s no longer respect for sovereignty?

For haven’t thirty years of austerity

Taught us in the south a hard lesson?

Now the time would be ripe

For the peoples of the north to use Machiavelli’s wisdom

Or take yet another example

Of a once, great eastern empire

For it was not only Europe who stood in ruins

After banks and arms dealers played with fire

Once our cousins of the desert stood united

By the banners of religion and tradition

With only a few borders drawn on a map

Divide and conquer soon bore fruition

Brothers who once sang with one voice

Now spoke with each other through gunshots

The sacred teachings of the Prophet

Were all but forgotten and lost

And now they turned their hatred on us

Or so the fairy tale press repeats

So long as trained soldiers spread violence and hurt

No one pays attention at what austerity has reaped

An enemy that has no face has haunted us for years

And they’ll yet haunt us for many years more

What societies can be saved if the warning cries of the witnesses of History

Go on being forever silenced and ignored?

It does not take an All-Seeing eye to distinguish

True facts hidden in the maze of lies and deceit

All you have to do is to look through the lenses of History

To recognize the truth when next time you look, but do not see

And now, I must sadly take my bow

For no matter how much I speak, no one is interested to know

For how can a poem compete with the circus of the media

And what’s the next program on TV?