Cry of Blood
I cry of mercy in the face of blood
Like begging urchins
And nothing but blood
And sour memories of lost relatives
My face is the signpost
Of b-ro-ken homes and carcasses
Of hopes still decaying
Shunned atop the brink of dusty roads
I am the tears and (glory) torn
The remnant of a land
In the hand of terror
I am a homeless pedestrian-
Wretched almajiris in Nigeria
Frail orphans in Sudan and Somalia, finding solace
Beneath the loft of motorway bridges
I am the dream of Africa
Perished on the Mediterranean Sea
On the course of survival.
