Murderers Poem by Peter Daniel Phiri

They killed him like he was a chicken;
They are devils, he wasn't ready to go.
Lord forgive him his sins, take him into your hands.
The dead cry, believe me, his tears poured through my eyes,
But he wasn't done, they poured through everyone else's.

I looked at his corpse, lying lifeless in the coffin.
Yet he stood besides me; he was emotionaly hurt.
I didn't want to cry, but he cried and his tears came through my eyes.
As we covered his grave with gravel, he sobed softly and closed his eyes;
His lone journey started, there was nothing I could do.

His face is forever tattoed in my memory,
Tears have dried, but I will fulfill his dream.
He gave me streangth, the Lord gave me grace and devine protection.
Don't bother trying, you cannot kill me too.
Heads up! Your trial awaits you in heaven.