Resistance and the whisper of Awakening.
256 Words
Through secret paths and hidden streams,
The brothers moved, carrying their dreams.
They taught the children the songs of old,
Of Voortrekker courage, of tales retold.
The eldest brother forged bonds anew,
With neighbors loyal, and hearts steadfast and true.
They tilled the fields, they built the walls,
They gathered in churches, and they answered the calls.
The middle brother kept watching at night,
Guarding traditions with all his might.
For laws of strangers and decrees unkind
Could never erase the spirit entwined.
The youngest brother, gentle and wise,
Looked into the sky and mapped the skies.
He saw in the stars the paths of fate,
And whispered, “The beauty won’t wait.”
Generations passed with quiet grace,
Each child learning to honor their place.
Through hardships, exile, and voices unheard,
They nurtured the flame. They tended the word.
Even as the world seemed deaf and blind,
The brothers preserved the soul of their kind.
They painted murals in minds and on walls,
They sang in hidden halls, in secret calls.
And though she slept, the beauty stirred,
In dreams of fields and songs unheard.
For time cannot silence what hearts protect,
Nor erase the courage nor the intellect.
The wind carried whispers from mountain to plain,
Stories of valor, of loss, of pain.
And slowly, subtly, the slumber cracked,
The world outside began to interact.
The brothers smiled, their mission clear,
Through resistance and patience, the dawn drew near.
The beauty’s eyes, though closed, began to gleam,
A symbol reborn of a people’s dream.
- Writer
