BLOODY BATH

Far in the fields I see heaps of corpses,
Women and children running for the lives,
Men with arrows lodged in there chests,
Tears and blood, but just what went wrong?

This is not a disaster or a catastrophe,
Neither are the scenes from a horror movie,
It’s an ogre, tribal hatred out to accrue,
Dangerously taking root among us.

Fertile fields have turned into abattoirs,
Pretty lands littered by abandoned homes,
The people always on their heels, no peace,
In sorrow I can’t hold back my tears.

Growing are the passions to fight among tribes,
Tensed nights, the daylights promising the same,
The worst hit, usually women and children,
All these malevolence beats the purpose of life.

The causes of all these often branded inevitable,
Land, cattle, water conflicts, whatever it is,
Has sent us to the infinite dungeon of darkness,
What a pity that we’ll continue in disillusionment,

It begins with you, simply turn enmity into love,
Reverse the vengeance into forgiveness,
Change the suspicion and mistrust into trust,
Let’s cultivate gratitude towards our neighbours.

Healing these wounds will take a lifetime,
Filling the void left by victims, not that easy,
Talking about it provokes series of bitter memories,
Until we act, we’ll continue down deadly trenches.

But in every gloomy situation there’s hope,
Keeping tribalism at bay will steer us to tranquility,
Extending an olive branch to our neighbours,
For the darker the problems the brighter the solutions.

Danny