The Stranger Poem by Sengiyumva Thiery

Mother died today no tears, not even one,
For the one who gave birth to me had deceased,
Now I can rest in peace.
I'll never have to miss my Sunday
For what happened that faithful day,
Is now past
And I'll never have to be an outcast,
Nothing more.

Marie wanted to be my wife
But I think I took an arab's life instead;
I'm in a dungeon
Day's have passed and gone
I kept calm and carried on.
Many fear what I face;
In this place
A stranger in the past is what I am,
And nothing less.

I stood tall
And seated in the hall,
Before the judges
To do me justice,
I must pay for my sin
I didn't mean to sin
The sun stood still in my eye, on that day it did
I should have cried
When mother died,
Than I would have had a chance
And here I am on my trail
No sign of Mercy on any face
Promises of pain awaits me
And nothing more

Here I am at the end of a beautiful crime, in the name of the French people I...
I am to be a stranger in the past
I am to face a hooded humanoid figure
I am to be decapitated