Prayer Of The Bones Iii Poem by Gert Strydom

Lord, the blood of the innocent trickles in the sand and clot
on the farms and in the cities of South Africa,
the beaker of the sorrows of Your people is running full
and I want to ask for deliverance and for much more than just mercy,
I am asking for Your peace and for true rest
as according to reports people are being murdered and robbed,
from the most distant northerly farm right up to the coast,
and some people flee and loose themselves under neon lights,
famous people are seen at objectionable places
while some people do pray to ancestral spirits and to rocks
and a future and a free life is much less than a maybe
as thousands have been buried with their shattered bones
and murdering shot after murdering shot is being fired
while people are begging and do wander through the land,
criminals do continually kill
and people do die without respect or mercy

It’s clear that a dark force is bringing evil over my people
and even at the church,
at government hospitals
crime and recklessness is being seen
and people do show signs to each other with their thumbs,
cellular phones and jewellery are being robbed with firearms
and factories are polluting the grey blue sky of the old Transvaal
while illegal shacks do stretch from hillock to hillock
and farmers are waited upon on Sundays and hunted down
from the Limpopo river to as far as flat Table Mountain
and at distant places and on farms robbers do strike at night
causing innocent people to die throughout the country
and passengers are threatened on train upon train
as if the police does not exist
while criminals use robbed medicine
to create their deadly drugs.

A politician tells naked lies and do excel in fraud
while robbers, criminals and murderers do never go to jail
and everyone that stands against these things is being seen as a rebel.
There are great abominations in the country like in the book Ezekiel,
people treat each other much worse than their animals,
some Afrikaners are rotten deeper than the core,
while black people dance naked to ancestral spirits in the veldt,
and a dark force is bringing its ungodly practices back.
Each criminal gang see themselves as soldiers,
some people are blindfolded against the walls of their own homes
and others dig holes for their own bodies
while most people are only searching for peace and a own life
and that You are going to intervene my Lord, is something that I do know
as like a David, I did also go through a valley of death
when communists wanted to destroy everything that is holy
and did suffer great losses against a much smaller army.

At the hand of foreigners Eugene Terreblance did die
and laws that oppress my own people are every day being seen
while municipal labourers do strike and rubbish heap up to the yard
and people without hope do visit dancing places and each and every bar
while those that do govern think that their dominance does last eternally
but you do notice the corruption that is being swept under the rosemary,
and You do see my scattered people and the bones of their struggle
as the Afrikaner does know humiliation, oppression, nemesis and pain
and thousands have being killed and lay in the grave
while the wind of abatement does blow continually and people do sob.
Lord, do hear the cries of them that are still following You
as some have become feasting places for the vulture and the crow.
and I pray for peace a place in the sun for everyone
from the rough back-veldt to each city,
and that Your bright light do splash down on the urban buildings of glass,
that everyone will reflect Your love, mercy and righteousness.