Widow Of Massacre Poem by Buyunde Acura Sylivester

Some said she lost,
None said she crossed,
Nothing was known clear,
Something about her was fear.
Everything, though said,
She's a widow of massacre.

If asked, she never say,
because witness you can pay,
She lost her husband,
Then lost her hand.
Everything, though said,
She's a widow of massacre.

Behind her, there're stories,
Behind stories, there's worries,
Her village was ambushed,
And in bullets, washed.
Everything, though said,
She's a widow of massacre.

She survived the claws of wild,
After death of her single child,
Finally she ran to this village,
Where we paid her homage.
Everything, though said,
She's a widow of massacre.