For Flesh and Blood

These were letters written in tablets of blood We wrote the pains of yesterday today wittily On this seaside of swaying embargo of tablets She was the song swept in pity and cruelty Daring the concubines that surround mother earth She shared piles of honest sorrows in the street When smoke of lies corrupted our honesty We became captives of earthly idols to rule Slaying bundles of watery hopes in our hands For flesh was the demon that deceived Our blood, the host empire sagging evil Folly of today harbored crime of tomorrow In sand of time have we seen this flesh Where water occupied the trinity of our being Rays of light paddled off boats that guide lives She cooked for all to eat and dance They ended up slaying her into the pot Exit the tortoise from its shell and cooked another lie For her testimonies of the saints roared Armed and naked, cruelled and shallowed they made honey through their sinful mouth Till this very end, we’ll have this palm frond Till another ash Wednesday to mourn her For these tablets are full of deceitful truth When she was younger and tender at heart She showered her pink happiness to lips Dressing emptiness to renew the wind We are windows of thought to her soul Dreams of new breeds, damaged in a Satirical veracity that makes spirit ponders For her flesh covered us in dusk and nightfall Her blood, a sacrificial substance to the believers Like the peacock, she spread her feather to protect Africa is the genesis of mankind and evolution She came yesterday with a song in her throat Here was the photography of our dreams she held When she told of a neighbor who killed with mouth For this diamond called home and house Would not exit us through shadows and ashes Through visible weightless wind among trees Dust became grains in our eyes when she fell People made others virgin of an oily wanderers Ronin and roving like dark armless sinister When she looks at her children, time looses Concentration; staked and unbalanced to her The flower may have lost a home to the wind Depictions of bones, broken in families of lovers Finding her children in a broken home of the past Skulls scattered like grains of millets in the forest Spirits wore bodies of new traveler to invade into The emptiness that generated fouled originality For flesh and blood, we would match forward The rivers flowing out from our eyes would ceased Africa is a green plant in the eyes of children Who killed her? Who damaged her fleshy thought?