Song of the Dinka...

by Noir   Jan 30, 2008


Walking past the red river of hate
Clasping hands await...
Moses to seperate the hate-(red)
to walk past the land of tolerance

Evil eye they call God
flogging our knees to prostate towards-
its folly- if only
they knew this black skin they call ugly--
was once their ancient mother's

My homeland is dying within,
to my chagrin
I cannot begin, my heart is as though pinned
I wish, I was but the lowly wind.

The North shall win, forever more--irate
I shall await, sadly
for the river to seperate, again
or die holding this paper and pen.

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