A day will come
When you will break down walls.
Not your own
But the carefully constructed
Brick and mortar fortresses
Of others.
With practiced casualness
You will trample
The gates of enemies and friends alike
And care little that you have trespassed.
All will call you
The Demolisher of souls and hearts
And you will no longer regard
Or respect lingual and emotional borders.
Your razing of their walls
And raising of your own
Will seem innate,
born of casual causality.
And only a few will know
That you were born
As grass, as stubble,
And your transformation
Into a bulldozer
Was nurtured
At the feet of those whose intent was to crush you.
At that time,
You will speak what you feel
And all the grudges you have carried
Because you were taught to be
Silent like a sheep that is slaughtered
Will be gone.
Yes, all those grudges
Even the ones
Seen from space,
Those ones as great and winding
And full of history
As the Great Wall of China.
