The Wagala Massacre

There was no sound at all,
The Streets were slippery with blood.

In the middle of street,

bodies lay unburied,

Others wounded.

I was scared as frightened child.

The village controlled by cops.

Buildings burnt to ashes.

Camped at sunny dusty aerodromes,

Heroes become bores,

Silence with bowed heads,

Their eyes were wild.

No pity in their stead.

Cops were for our death,

Miseries lay ahead.

Brave lads who were so willingly

burnt or blinded, o r maimed.

Were all petrified

Not concealing,

Brave men's fleshes

were blown to bleeding patches.

But our hearts grown numb with death.

Remembering braves swift mirth,

We sucked their dying breath.