Rachael Omage, ‘The Rise of Zhen’ – Honorable Mention
The Rise of Zhen
The fever rose in ninety-nine,
When tyranny crossed its bitter line,
The dragon turned against its kin,
And chained the voice of truth within.
A land once crowned with ancient grace,
Now bears the scars of a broken face,
Where temples fall to hushed screams,
And mercy fades from sacred dreams.
Tao once walked in quiet streams,
Now drowns beneath unholy schemes.
Buddha’s path, once pure and bright,
Is shadowed now by endless night.
Confucian halls of wisdom’s lore,
Are battered by the drums of war.
How long shall poisoned stories reign,
To fatten greed and tighten chains?
Where hands that thirst for full control,
Crush every light, and cage each soul.
Still a song is rising clear,
Not born of hate, nor bred of fear.
For Zhen, for Shan, for Ren we stand,
For lives now scattered through the land,
For Qi Gong’s breath, for truth once sown,
For blood and tears the brave have known.
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