Each day was end with spears
the blood was sucked by all fears
and you would swear no life was beyond
rather no home they belonged
Between the corners of sudan
was hated love much like that in iran
tears were fashion to inhumanity
Just like Burundi were there was no solidarity
You would swear there was no soul in the body
Lying there, being stepped on by everybody
those were days suffered by many Zimbabweans
pain and struggle that depression and disabled majority South Africans
you would swear there were no possibilities
just as politicians like religionists had no responsibilities
with long thoughts life was too short
with a bullet all heads were shot
it was sorrow written in their eyes
In Lybia was fear blessed to their lives
The Somalia were the sword was greater that the pen
But death mightier than the pain
Heartfelt! Thought-provoking! The death is mightier than the hope-rimmed scurry to hearth/ before their drenched bodies be lent to the earth
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Why do we fight among ourselves? Why do someone come to our countries and fight for us? We have sacrificed millions of our brothers and sisters in wars, but the pain of the livings who suffer the loses, have brought the change in our lives. In USA, they fought among themselves in civil wars, but they have prospered latter after learning the lessons, so we will prosper one day! !