The Skies were painted black<\/p>\n
I was grieving, copious grieve<\/p>\n
Weeping and weeping as though an entire nation were dead<\/p>\n
I felt desolate, destitute in my soul<\/p>\n
Fathers, Mothers, children and even those yet to be born<\/p>\n
Executed by ineptitude in the womb of doom<\/p>\n
Charred to the bone, defaced, dehumanized, detonated in a blazing fury of fire<\/p>\n
In a consummate moment of sadness, fragile humanity is consumed<\/p>\n
Reduced to charcoal, searing deep holes in the hearts of the living<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
The rain came down in unstoppable frenzy, pounding relentlessly for hours on end<\/p>\n
As though a demon of vengeance had been set lose with a mission to destroy<\/p>\n
Desperate soundings of thunder and shrieks of lightening confronted bewildered skies<\/p>\n
Plotting s of death hatched for decades were unleashed<\/p>\n
To expose our hidden sins to the entire world out there<\/p>\n
A contorted reckoning for undelivered promises<\/p>\n
Of projects that have failed to see the light of day<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
So we mourn our dead today, for three days<\/p>\n
The oppressive country that devours itself,<\/p>\n
Eats up children and leaves bones charred in a debris of infinite pain<\/p>\n
Yes, we weep copiously for our dead<\/p>\n
Our intoned dirges criss-cross and penetrate the dawn<\/p>\n
Like drawn daggers piercing the mundane skies<\/p>\n
We shed tears in torrents with raw emotions of pain<\/p>\n
Our frenzy of wails rise to a crescendo of woe<\/p>\n
But the dead are still, unmoved by our cacophony of mourning<\/p>\n
Our delude of tears make no impression whatsoever<\/p>\n
Our murderous conscience defy absolution<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
Because our stars are black<\/p>\n
Our skies are dark<\/p>\n
Turbulent rains, without drains<\/p>\n
Lays bare our dreaded fate<\/p>\n
Poor souls have scorched and are dead<\/p>\n
Waisted in the floods of our neglect<\/p>\n
As we shed tears of profound regret<\/p>\n
Cleanse our hearts oh Lord our God<\/p>\n
Galvanize our grieve in a healing streak<\/p>\n
Let development speak, for peace we seek<\/p>\n
–<\/p>\n
By: Nana Frema Busia<\/p>\n
Wbusiafordemocracy@yahoo.com<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
The Skies were painted black I was grieving, copious grieve Weeping and weeping as though an entire nation were dead I felt desolate, destitute in my soul Fathers, Mothers, children and even those yet to be born Executed by ineptitude in the womb of doom Charred to the bone, defaced, dehumanized, detonated in a blazing […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":14,"featured_media":122974,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":[],"categories":[],"tags":[8],"yoast_head":"\n