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FAITHFUL _ Another Massive Grave
Dear son, If you are far, from Please don't come home, For death is now a regular visitor, Constantly knocking on our doors. Death is only a machete swing away, Only a rifle click away, A dagger's slit away, A bomb throw away, Please eat your food like a supper, Tonight could be your last, The very bite you chew could be the last, Your teeth's could never grind before.... (Sobs) ..... ..... .... A bomb could blast, A fire could raise, A bullet could tear... A smoking hut, Blood soaked sands, Corpse littered streets, A weeping little child behind the smoking debris, He is the last of a family of seven, Somewhere in plateau, death knows us by name. Memorize my face, Because the last you'll see won't be mine, But a sun burnt face, A blood stained blade, An angry face with long tribal marks, Canals where pure evil runs. Our home is now a market square, Our lives are the common commodity, Bartered for slaughtered cows, Exchanged for animals which would make the next meal...
