By Kobe Eru Godwin
Tears cascade from the bags of eyelids
To rough of chin, black and salty
No rain drops to quench the thirst of vengence
Sleep, far from the bosom of our comfort
To the heavens, fingers tangled, mothers pray, broken words
Echoes of fear
Fathers, gnash, another headstone
Scribbles of eulogy, break the silence of the page
The dawn came with the mist
A symphony from a far cry
Through furrows and ridges we walk
Blinded by a smiling Sun
Created by God, in which, we are one under
Hands we hold and pray to see
Another day in a blurry history
In penury, freedom we conceive
A long walk to remember
Revolution we birth
On waters, that leads to
Acres of Hope
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This article was first published on 22nd January 2013
jehonwa
Joy Ehonwa is an editor and a writer who is passionate about relationships and personal development. She runs Pinpoint Creatives, a proofreading, editing, transcription and ghostwriting service.
Email: pinpointcreatives [at] yahoo.com
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