Shackles

Soon all will be history,
But of misery or victory?
The end of this fight,
The beginning of another.
For us, life is death
And nothing differs,
All they assured us died long ago
But we keep hoping,dreaming and wishing
When will we wake up from our slumber?
When are we going to stop being a stranger
In our own land and house ?
The shackles is only half broken,
We are not free yet.
But who dare bell the cat?
Now we have to pay
For their atrocities and damages
Our blood keep flowing for it and we are drowning in it.
Where should we look up to?
Is it the cracking hills?
Is it this sun that scorch us?
Where exactly is our help coming from?