BONES OF SOMALIA

poem by: Fadrian Bartley
Written on Jan 28, 2018 

I went down to Somalia
Gazing upon mountains
Stretched towards the skies
The plain is fresh
Like the promises to Moses

As a free bird
I decided not to go further,
But stop to intervene 
For those who stands as dry bones
I wonder if they can live,

To stand for something and regain beauty 
That was stolen and ripped from their own bones
I listen to their stories
Hitting on my ears
With sound and no melodies

I linger with the same question 
Will these bones live?
And how they survive the perpetuality of ruins
The dessert cultivated with hard labor
Reaching out for prosperity gone in the wind

The sour grape of life is all they taste
Reaping only the sorrowful tale from their own stories
Light haven’t seen the struggles
Within the darkest part of Somalia
So how these dry bones live?

 

Tags:

Add Comment

 

More by Fadrian Bartley

...
THE PHEONIX

poem by Fadrian Bartley

Out of time out of space An entity forges itself in place From whence it came no one knows A countenance of grandeur, continually grows Such power to witness all eyes can see The dreaded presence from a bird of prey Pure flam... Read more

...
BLOODY ATTEMP

poem by Fadrian Bartley

At the edge of ending it all I look below and saw that I will be a great fall At that very same moment I hear a voice call Offering the help I need through it all I think for a moment what it would have been If all my familie... Read more