A Refugee's Story Poem by Shally Samuel

The journey, so short, so long it was that metamorphosed me, like the butterfly I am.
The run, so long, too long, I died each moment, gazing at the endless skies, captured in sleepless dreams of hope I might turn to that Dove..

I ran, we ran away from the short journey that changed our world.
We ran away from death and to death we ran,
Yes! ! ! To death I ran, with tears of blood, leaving its print on the path of destiny.

The skies turned grey, the oceans, the boisterous waters.. swallowed us in hundreds and we floated lifeless on the shores of uncertainty.
The journey, as I reminisce on the life we knew;
indulge not in the recollections of the yesterdays;
I am now a refugee.

We ran faster than the Cheetah from deaths made by earthly beings;
If the bombs came from above, at least, we could ask importunately, the King above to save us.

We fled for our lives, from the shelling's;
from the somewhat volcanic eruptions that washed off the very core of our lives;
praying The Lord to give us our weekly bread;
without which I would have died again.

I simply cannot ģbagbe; je ne peux pas oublier,
The bleating of our goats, the milk'n'cheese that's best in autumn,
Spring, winter and summer;
The fresh breath of freedom that encompassed the borders of my father's farm, our home.

This is my status now, I have became a refugee..
Through an uncommonly long journey;
the longest, yet the shortest,
after I crossed the borders.
But wait, aren't we all refugees on earth?