The Sorrow Night Songs [Poetry]

A PLEA FOR AFRICA

The songs in us are dry,
The wings of us don't fly,

we have lost our dancers,
and we have forgotten dances,

our minds speak heartlessly,
and our hearts, mindlessly,
This is but a plea to everyone,
And to Africa,

everyone
Should have ears to hear this,
and must hear it here,

Everyone must have whispering breath
to wake the dawn,
The dawn above the morning dew.

Everyone here in Africa,
Must haunt the night,
To listen to this poem—this ghetto poem,

But everyone is nowhere around
anyone,
This is the arrow held behind our
spirits.

Oh I see what I hear, when I don't see,
everyone is dead and alive,
Alive and dead
Everyone.

We see our souls sold
In between the visions
Of future,
As a lost. Found and Refined.
Gold in the sorrow hills,
silver in thirst for redemption.

Everyone is in shackles,
Everyone is in moist follicles.
Everyone is stupid,
Everyone is wise,
Everyone is free,
Everyone is in need. Indeed!

We are defined!
Simply holding unto visions beyond
memories and memories beyond visions.
We are confined!

everyone, should hear,
the part of the story,
Where we are often not seen,
The path we walk—to save what
we saved,

the white, the black,
the monkey, the ananse,
the fool the unthinking thinker,
We have to put Africa on the map,

But this is what I tell you,
Everyone is not us,
But must be with us!

these are the seasons
in our moments,

everyone, it is moments in
our seasons.

The seasons and moments,
where the birds brood in
their songs,
And the songs rule in their
hooks,
chirping. roaring—and dancing.

knowing that everyone
is next to us, but not us.

we walk in the shadows
of these seasons,
And it is just left for us to do what is right,
some say—this too shall pass,
Alright, then everyone,

Know, doubt, believe.
but when we smile the smiles
of the Africa frowns,

everyone,
should know,
It is just for now.

For the glory is coming!
And it is here! Now!

For the time has come
For the caretakers of Africa
To raise up again
From their sleeps—and be healed from illusions and mental illness.

And walk with the pride of Africa,
That which blossom across
nations,
In the scars they have seen and heard,

The time has come—for us to think,
Once and rethink twice,
That we have the right to make
Africa work again!

The time is now!
Not another time,
When the sparrows will fall.