And Again, Nile Runs Red

Nile runs red, once again a plague-smitten river,

Blood crashing onto sand in waves of violent quivers,

Drowning Nubian melodies that linger on hopeful lips

Whilst the land walked on by Kandakas braves life in eclipse.

Slumber eludes a young boy, only thirteen,

His father, hung, burned in the back of his mind, images umpteen.

Witness to the troubled sleep of his neighbour’s daughter, barely three,

Helpless, he had watched her assault; at the hands of monsters deaf to their pleas.

Another child hangs on to his dead mother’s neck

Begging her to wake up as they are thrown into the Nile’s wrecks,

War ruins tucked in the creases of those empty little eyes

Swept into the darkest corners of the river’s surge, a window to sullen skies.

Nile cries blood once again, its cursed waters veiling slaughter

Drowning innocent men, strewn across the laps of grieving daughters.

Rapaciously plundered of the human soul, homes are torn asunder

Numbers rise in the blood-soaked earth, only a few decently put six feet under.

Hanging and drowning and molesting, sparing none,

Half the horror left untold as bodies overrun,

Devils on horseback swarm onto every inch of the country

Tussling and trampling all, no man allowed to flee.

The Nile runs red once again, its crimson reflecting the land’s many sorrows

Drinking dry the futile cries that seep the silence of its tomorrows.

Waqto wa naso, the women proclaim

With hope and pride, putting your silence to shame,

Waqto wa naso, the time has come 

You that are humane, what do you shrink from?