Warren Of Snares

We can account for the scars in our sides

Yet we are not privy to the thoughts that we discard

Those who would break us, nurture our despair

But still we cherish those who we revile

We take this battle in our fortitude

The war of will yet to be resolved

We broke the font from which we sup

Bit hard upon the nape of our chaste and drew blood

Take refuge in our commune, orphans, staccato souls

Scrawled identities, captives of our consecration

Is this our dowry, the sorrow of our loss?

Do we inflict our young with the horrors of our past?

We use these imperfections as markers, vestige points

We have so much to gain, so little left to loose

Lay bare this soil, a marred ambit, borders bound by slick hraka

Towers of salt carve out tracks, cleaved in two by careless hands

The word is rife, the harbinger, it clings to us this Efrafa

Homba, Lendri and Yonil, it rises like vomit within us all

The weakening words spread out in arcs

The urge to flee, cowardice engulfs

Our hands are raised in unison

Brandished tools, branded skin

Cut away, like so much meat

We forged new scars against ill repute

We hold on tight to one another

I am legion for we are many