The Fishermen

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When you keep your eye on the horizon of your dreams and you strain against the leash that holds you back. You ebb and you flow with the tide of hatred and repression that flows from the occupying shores like black ink on the waves. You strain every sinew to beat back the bullets, to resist the humiliation that follows you through the seas you know like the freckles on your son’s nose. You rise and you fall like the swell of this sea but you touch Life in the spray, you smile in the jaws of pitiless death and you stand tall and proud in the bow of your craft. You hand down the life that you lead to the lives that you fed and you sing the soft song of freedom under your breath as you set sail from the shore of your land into the waters you know like the back of your hand.

fisherman

fishermens

fishing

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