The child weeps in a shackled village,Naked tears fall to the ground,
The cry unheard, not responded & growing frail
The red soil with corpses around.
They were here, the brutal murderers,
Of the war-torn country in the Dark Continent,
They know only guns, blood & diamonds
Making sure the bloody tears remain persistent.
Amputated men, raped women, maimed children
The axed limbs and the scarred mind
The conflict turning households into ghastly abaddon,
Its the diamonds the enslaved hands would find.
The nascent teenagers brandishing Kalashnikovs,
Homicides being their indoctrinated play
Mining the 'roughs' in the bloody river basins
The black-veined hands under the trigger lay.
Sierra Leone, Angola, Liberia, Ivory Coast, Congo
Nebulae of man's unquenchable thirst for 'the stone'
Uncut they occur but through the country's fabric they cut,
The helpless child's tears harden into love's material epitome...
(In memory of the thousands of innocent people massacred & crippled by the civil wars in Africa during 1990s which gave rise to the infamous trade of 'Blood Diamonds')
