Monday, September 23, 2013

For Kenya, and senseless murders

Tis blood that's shed to shake our souls,
This blood that's shed, is from my veins, my child, my mother, my sister, my friend,
Father shouts for us to go,
He takes the bullet, sheds more of us.
We're frozen, at first, and then we melt into rose red,
Seeping into the rivers of sorrow.
Africa beats her chest in pain,
She stomps her feet, anklets betraying her fury.
Our children have returned to the Earth.
Life has lost this round to the firing squad in a material world.
The whirlwind is tormented souls crying havoc.
Tears fall into ocean and are buried there, forgotten.
Until a new day for blood and sweat and maybe victory.

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