Prison walls Torture chambers Desert torturers An angry dark tide In the dead of night Eerie lonely frozen streets Fiery eyes and cold gaze And so I live and you don’t? one survives and the other not… Is my luck a blessing or a curse? Was your life a tragedy or prophesy? Were your parents merely unfortunate? Are mine a sign of our times? You are dead I am not Is there a difference? Below grave or above Is a question of location Not a pronouncement of life You are dead and so motionless I am all inert and utterly voiceless You are dead now but not lifeless I am simply a poor listless refugee You have a name: Dearly Departed All I have is a bane You have a grave You have a place I have…none You are dead And I…I am ...I am... Eritrean Still
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