for the departed Black rebels

Ahh my children

Ahh my children, I have sobbed since antiquity

When I gaze at the remains of my land

The dehydrated blood of my sleepin’ daughter

the bestial hands of the oppressors

I weep – I weep, god forgive them

From celestial lands, I can hear the blare

I glance down and I find them bare

Scattered like rubbish bags

The smoke is born from the cough of the bang

My children bleed and they join the dead

Their bodies decay beneath the Kalahari sands

When I glance at their blood

I cry – Ahh my children 




By : Ayanda Gladile