Fear of Strangers

Seething cauldrons seethe from fanned embers of tyrants
Hunger and Pain smoke out peasants from their hamlets
Bubbling violence here and there chafing the feet to flight;
Barbed walls of sovereignty vaulted with poles of tenacity
To a mecca built on blood and agony over and over again.
Home away in a land paved with the wisdom from suffering
...and then, an ill wind:
Prejudice swept over quiet plains with heart-rending wails
Rolling down fire-balls of envy from mountains of pride:
Already wounded spirits stabbed now with phobic daggers
As blistered feet from walks from horror hurry from terror.

poem by Chukuemeka AkpeReport problemRelated quotes
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