Melindo Fighting


Eyes bleeding from a brutal punch
But your childhood dream unruffled in your mind
You can go home with a battered head
But not without a fighting heart
The splatter of your blood, brave red in a cruel canvas white

There is honor in pain, a Father’s life for a child
Every fight uncertain, you leave up to God
Summoned to your fists all that you went through
In your mind a Mother praying:
Lord I leave my son’s fate to you

And you’re not alone, we become brothers, we fight with you
Our lives unfold every time blood drops from your face
Your pain becomes ours, your blood too
Bloodied but you keep fighting
If only all of us who grimace with your, would honor you:

The public—thieves in us, because of shame, wear: not anymore
The prayerful in us, reflect on shame, not anymore be more Popish
Our hands learned forsake mischief
Blood will only fall for the heroic
And death in this land not anymore for penury



Please follow our commenting guidelines.

Comments are closed.