By Wenne Madyt Dengs,
I see your soul ascending in steps to heaven
I have no disrepute when they see me wiping
You are gone, beyond the stars
I try to reach you, but I am immovable
Mortal antipathy has chained my hands
I am a motionless object
On this day
Mourner: Angel above, hear my pain
I needed you, why did they kill you?
The filthy fifteenth
Of Death-Same-Month
You left us nailed, on the wall of tribalism
You are gone, but I am immovable
My eyes are covered with myth
I cry,
And no one seem to hear my voice
I’m drowning in the stream of blood
Hunger has finally hunted down
I’m still scavenging
At northern and Southern borders
You perished, and published their gluttony
The tears are endless,
I’m an orphan
I’m a widow
I’m barren
They keep ululating
When I’m bawling
The writer can be reached via: wennemadyt63@gmail.com
