Mine eyes have seen the glory
Though brutalized and murdered whilst alive
The cancerous tentacles bedeviling my country have made my freedom trip
To be odious
I see skeletal children and tattered beggars hobbling on homemade crutches
as I meet my fate
The torturous chambers of mental colonization and denigration are part of the Ghetto
daemon that I have escaped.

I will try to stretch out in the sodden grave and I will try to move my mandibles but my wretched mind will strain my vocal muscles to scream
Callously evicted because of being old and frail, those in the spiritual realm will greet me and say, ‘You had a succulent escape’.
I will never be my usual self and I will never be the heart and soul of the land but my blood and bone will never speak the foreign language.

I used to say divulge your knowledge to none but the right one.
But the right one has made the trees not to listen to him
The rain has made tears as it moans with the wind
The eyes of the ground dilated with fear and rage see the mouth of the land devouring the right one.
Clouds become darker all over the land that gave birth to me and vivid flashes of lightning followed by a pearl of thunder opens the door that gives me a freeway to get inside.
© Danny the Writer