Xenophobia
The sun has set on the eastern skies
of this continent.
The Eagles that once swarm our happy
skies have retired in disgrace.
Crows now roam,
picking pieces of carcasses,
the victims of xenophobic fracases.
The fountain of our human kindness hath
dried up,
and the weight of imaginary excuses
now drive us to extinguishing the warm embers of brotherhood which once festered our progress and wealth.
The sacred groves and septic streets
lie baked with cakes of red hemoglobin,
I watch on TV as the life of one Mozambiqan violently sipped through the gutter of a Durban street, until death tasted its last drop. The crowd cheered in disgrace.
Composed and written by
Onyeoziri Favour.
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