Dancing On Our Graves Poem by Gold Trybes

I hear the drumbeats
The drumbeats of war and starvation
From foreign lands and continents
Of generations wiped out in their thousands
Brothers killing brothers,
Children fighting wars
Men and women with broken destinies
Agony and grief rife in the hearts of many
Seeing charred remains of family members
Neighbours, friends and aquaintances
Killed in bizzare circumstances

The story is the same
From coast to coast
Generations to generations
A false ideological war
Foisted on helpless and innocent civillians
Unassuaged by the many machine guns
Tanks, bombs and machetes
Leaving in its trail-sorrow, tears and blood

Women are daily giving birth to unwanted babies
Ganged raped by infidels and war mongers
Suffering greivious humiliation and harm to their bodies and

minds
Ostracized from the community they once belonged
Who promised protection and care
Into a world full of uncertainties
That could only get worse from fraustration.

Children are left to die in their thousands
From poverty, hunger, starvation and deprivation
Many are laying sick with undiagonised ailments
Some with severed members of their body
And thousands driven to early graves,
Littered around the landscape

Horror seems unfit to capture the feeling
As they watch their mothers and sisters
Callously raped before their very eyes
Their fathers and brothers
Dismembered in grief striken shock
And left to die slowly in agony and left unattended

Homelands have become desertlands
Children scattered in distant camps
Different from their mothers’
Houses of value and scores of properties
All up in flames and rubbles
In a world full of madness
Moving like a herd without a shepherd

Innocent people are dying everday
From an unjustified war
Wiping ethnicities and kingdoms away
The souls of which are yet to find rest in their graves
They are crying profusely and wandering violently
Because they have been denied sleep and rest
Waiting for when the world will put a stop to this madness
And let peace reign again...