Umar yogiza jr’s in the name of unsaids

in the name of unsaids

the wild clouds adjusted by desires turned
wind of fire; whirling through human lives
throats and bones machete out of human
human fallen life after life like a sugarcane
be blind it’s okay, hark as we bleed, and wail
our fathers left us this land as your cattle were left of you
we are closer to our land than our wives
this rustling, rattling, mottling with our lives
is wearisome; but we are farmers not wanderers

fearsome darkness may feed on our blood
it may makes us drearer, dead and lonely
but our poor blood is our sword, come with
your guns and kill us; it can’t tempt us to be
monsters, the land is our children war relics
kill us, our ghosts will turn streaks of silence
my forefather’s land can never turn to cattle land
this weary, moaning everyday too will beget
and becomes more cradle for our offsprings

son, this farmland is yours, they have theirs
souled through it, drink in it, die in it as dear
you’ll never be called companion of sadness
if your death can sing a song, let them dance
let them leave alcohol and drink your blood
if it’s a crime to be farmers let us be criminals
so, son if humans cannot starve birds, fly high
farm, farm, we are not maids stranded free!
if our fathers refused to be slave, so are we

if we are going to be slaves in our own land
let us be slaves with dignity, kill us in our farm
kill us all asleep, hark as life leaves our body
our blood would never turn to more cattle
my child go to farm, even at the risk of dying
tell your unborn son; true-soul died at birth
let us die as they want! away with sadness!
farming fills hearts with cheer! hold your joy!
we are farmers! they cannot turn us killers

(c) umar yogiza jr

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