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If I opened my eyes
If I opened my eyes, these eyes of grey,
To witness the red skies in which vultures lurked,
And hawks flew, the chariots of death,
Unleashing their destruction upon a world of black,
Black souls. Black hearts,
Smeared dusts across pure skins,
Eager for death and corruption,
Enough to lie about years of childhood,
And take the trip into maturity,
Only to die in a childish game.
The weapons were worn like lion’s skins,
Over bare backs which became cripple and ill,
Those children whom mother earth bore,
And who returned to the earth at their death,
Their crimson blood soaked into the dry ground,
Now moist with tears and the sweat of the fight,
Where the bodies fall and become stepping-stones,
For passing warriors eager for glory.
The skies were ablaze with red and green,
Stop and go, like the hearts of those amongst the darkness,
Hiding within their dusty trenches,
Soon to become their dusty graves,
To lie and to die, to be forgotten,
No stone to mark their glorified name,
No image marked in the soil,
Just the whisper of the winds,
Taking departed souls home.
If my birth had come that little earlier,
To save my own kin from stepping out into no man’s land,
I would outstretch my arms and declare peace,
And die trying like all of them did.
