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Song of The Sons of the Refugees | Olusoji Obebe

We are all over the corners of the earth

by the dictates of kismet.

We are a family of no lineage.

We live on the outskirts of the metropolises

and then in the pocket of the forest.

 

Every night wind chants of undone war

which our fathers’ hearts cannot beat.

Every morning recasts a reminiscence of evil

haunting our mothers to a wall.

 

Our feeble feet spell the handwriting of fate

on the face of soil.

Our eyes, the lantern of faith

that is faint.

 

We are caught between

the drumbeat of war behind

and heralds of death ahead.

Like shrimps in swamp, we are ghettoized.

Like salt in the rain, we are not safe.

 

We are all over the corners of the earth

by the dictates of kismet.
Photo by Ruthvik Chandramouli on Unsplash


About The Author: Olusoji Obebe is an emerging Nigerian poet, essayist and fiction writer. He is a longlisted and a published writer in the African Human Rights Essay Competition. Also, a finalist in the Voice of Peace Intercontinental Poetry and Short Story Contest. His work has appeared on Fiery Scribe Review.

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Published inPoetry&Musings

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