Posted in poetry

Black, silenced in blood

Black, silenced in blood.


Still waters run deep,
The oaths of a woman i inscribed on soil.

How vain without the merit is the name.
This word does not frighten the man who, 
in acting feels no fear.
silenced in blood.

How sweet for those faring badly to forget their misfortunes even for a glimpse. 
how quickly the gratitude owed the dead flows off, 
how quick to be proved a deceiver.  
cruel was my master for in his eyes those of mine who lived were nothing but images or insubstantial shadows,
nothing more than phantoms or weightless souls. 
Hell was empty, 
and all the devils dwell here.
Fed by fear,
Driven by sadism, 
Lust for, 
silenced in death.

Pools of whirling liquid escape my glance as they roll down the planes of my cheek, 
My hunger, insolent!
And will be fed. 
If it were possible to cure evils lamentation and to raise the dead with tears, 
then gold would be less valuable than weeping.

he kills a man
Then another,
and another, 
an endless sea of bodies.
Crimson drips my gaze, 
Fair is foul and foul is fair,
Hover through the fog and filthy air.
As dusk falls, 
we gather arms two friends, two bodies,
with one souls inspired!

Lust for knee-less mens tears. Nehanda called out through the winds “all a mans’ affairs become diseased when he wishes to cure evils with evils,
If so all is disgusting when a man leaves his own nature and does what is unfit, 
this a true saying amongst ancestors, 
the gifts of enemies are no gifts and profit-less,
child know your roots,
i beg,”
i turn unto her, 
” the wise, dont you know that silence supports the accusers’ charge?
Evil counsel travels fast yet again foolishness is indeed the sister of wickedness,
Tonight i shall have the devils head and banish him back to hell where he shall be welcomed home. 

If we are to keep our democracy, there must be one commandment,
‘Thou shalt not ration justice’.
No more black blood,
Too i am flesh,
Mistake not our silence for weakness. 
He will learn the value of black blood!
Now as i draw my last breath,
I pray Heavens feel thy pain,
Send it to my children, 
let them repay my death, 
My last crimson tear,
holds only them dear.

Take not for granted the world you live,
for blood,
sweat and tears were shed, lakes to fill your morrow.
My legacy i left,
Now you uphold the victory




A poet wise enough to perceive, the world can never be changed but dense enough to still seek the unattainable.... Kudzai Chidamba.

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