shadows cross paths
winds blows through the day
arrows fly through the night
drums of war can be heard from afar
dead tell no tale
but weep for the living
season upon season
same type of fruits are eaten
no sunshine,no rain just dark skies
clouds form over the future
for no one can make sense of what's happening
they leave scraps for the one's they call wretched
they put there own at the best
allow the rest to struggle for scraps
their thirst for power clouds their judgment
they call themselves leaders
promising to lead us to the future
they sneak at night to hunt us
we die in silence not knowing
what happens tomorrow
their mouth's are like that of cotton candy
hope is a faded word from our minds
suffering has become our daily bread
when will this torment stop
when will the birds sing
when will the sky brighten
that time is far still
for nothing is seen at horizon
just perpetual darkness
©ndukauba54
N