Tears Of The Niger Poem by venessa ambrose

Like the tears of the Niger,
The blood of the black lot,
Buried in asylum,
Deep within crude pain.

Like the lost souls,
Residing at the bottom of the ocean,
With rivers of broken tear,
Looking for succor in chaos.

Like the doom that burns,
Incentive clouds,
The prove of such Original sin,
Rotting in burnt air!

Like dead dreams,
And buried innovations,
Lost creations,
Finding salvation!

Like the torn page,
Of a forgotten aspiration,
The crying yearns,
And thoughts of what might have been.

Like the dead essence,
Faded as dark music,
Rejoicing in its redemption,
From a world of deception!

Like the hands of time,
Slowest to the fools,
Yet leaves not any for the day,
Flying with letters of dreams!

Its the tears of the Niger,
It flows from both eyes,
Recalling its once great army,
And the deceit that won the battle.

A war of both armies,
Where the Niger sold it army,
And died ever since that history,
The sorry tears of the Niger!