Longing for the Running brooks!
Death is certain
Life is uncertain
Especially for An African Woman
Belittled, beaten and butchered,
Taken as nothing but property
With no education, no employment
She hardly defines herself
Longing for the running brooks
The brooks she never finds.
Rocked in hunger, poverty, and death
Her society blames her
Nobody trusts her
Sorrow is all she knows
As she tries to feed her child
Like nature she longs
Running brooks, she desires
The brook that never comes!
Where shall I go? She asks
Give us our daily bread! She prays
Awaitin' just enough to feed
She sleeps without
Only to be awaken by the dawn
For that daily bread
She even the more longs
As a deer longs!
My body is food and my blood is drink
She receives with determination
Amidst hopelessness, joylessness and gloom
Longing for death
Not running waters anymore
Thus She understands
Death is certain
Life is uncertain
Happy are those who have trodden
For soon or later all shall join
In longing for brooks
That weaves my vision to yours!
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