A CRY FOR SUDAN
Sudan, a country
Whose princes were undefiled
Pure as snow
Vigorous and strong
Glowing with health.
Now they lie unknown
In the streets, their faces
Blackened in death,
Their skin dry as wood
Has shrivelled on their bones.
Those who died in the war
Are better than those who
Died last year, who starved
Slowly to death with no
Food to keep them alive.
The disaster that came to
This people brought horror;
Loving mothers boiled their
Own children for food.
No one anywhere even
In foreign nations
Believed that any invader
Could enter Sudan's gates.
But it happened because
Their prophets sinned
And her priests and imams
Were guilty of killing innocent people.
Her leaders now wander
Through the streets like blind men
So stained with blood
That no one can touch them.
Murderers roam the countryside;
Hunger make them burn with fever.
And their daughters forced to submit
By rebels who themselves are no better
Than slaves.
Nothing is left of what
They were proud of.
The city is now empty
And the wild jackals roam about.
A city that was once
The glory of Africa
Now the ruins of Africa!
Sudan, a country
Whose princes were undefiled
Pure as snow
Vigorous and strong
Glowing with health.
Now they lie unknown
In the streets, their faces
Blackened in death,
Their skin dry as wood
Has shrivelled on their bones.
Those who died in the war
Are better than those who
Died last year, who starved
Slowly to death with no
Food to keep them alive.
The disaster that came to
This people brought horror;
Loving mothers boiled their
Own children for food.
No one anywhere even
In foreign nations
Believed that any invader
Could enter Sudan's gates.
But it happened because
Their prophets sinned
And her priests and imams
Were guilty of killing innocent people.
Her leaders now wander
Through the streets like blind men
So stained with blood
That no one can touch them.
Murderers roam the countryside;
Hunger make them burn with fever.
And their daughters forced to submit
By rebels who themselves are no better
Than slaves.
Nothing is left of what
They were proud of.
The city is now empty
And the wild jackals roam about.
A city that was once
The glory of Africa
Now the ruins of Africa!
Copyright © 2009 Ajayi Kingsley
