Tears Of Silent Africa

There was a crowd surrounding him.

 His left eye drowned in the blood pouring down his forehead.

  He felt the touch of spits and sharp words screaming in his ears, screaming at his face,

 Screaming down his heart.

Death reached out a hand waiting for a warm embrace.

 He looked out and around, slowly fading out;

 The environment had turned into a nightmare;

 He saw eyes filled with hate and rage, seeking justice of one man’s lie.

 When will wealth stop dictating us?

 When does truth, stop being the one held by the crowd-he wondered as he lost breath.

 MURDERER! the people screamed as the rope was tied tight onto a large branch, then around his neck.

 A small boy of barely seven; silently watched on.

For the first time in a long time he looked up into the sky and noticed that it is not there. During summer of all seasons.

Yet the air felt warm; and the birds had stayed. Like the cold was the one that went south leaving its soul to hover above his head.

 Strangely all these happened and they were nothing more than rotten luck. Like a mad-man he smiled.

‘No more running, no more pain, no more struggle, no more sleeping hoping for a meal for the night.’

 ‘Fly the skies, because no one dies even though we say they die. It’s just mankind’s nature to believe in what the naked eye sees…Leave them be, come with me, so you can know your truth’ A voice whispered calmly.

 

“Where do we go so I can know my truth?”  he asked the nothingness before him.  There was no answer.

His mind wandered off;

As his feet began to rise from the ground, he tip-toed on his toes till they was no feeling of solid ground to muster up any hope. He tried to fight the ropes tied to his hands in the back.

He dangled.

 Brutally trying to scream but the cheering covered his pain;

 Covered their barbaric mentality in front of their children’s innocent eye.

 Such an irony that they should call me the animal.

Is it because am poor, is it because of my tribe or my race.

It didn’t matter, all he saw where souls filled blinded sin. Judging him;

Casting stones at his life.

Staining his hands and his soul with more hate and more rage.

He remembered his brother’s last words before he died too.

‘Karma, the tears of silent Africa’