Esther
It’s a question that lingers in my mind.
Will we be us again?
There once was peace, but it got into pieces.
We saw so many things that tingled our hearts. The burn to our houses, the tickling of the barns for cattle.
Oh! I could see the rifles against us, we rivalled against our own.
Who won? Is it the one who wanted power?
It was blue and black, we never blew our whistles to let them know we needed saving.
I write, it was never right for any of them.
We were hurt in the hunt, our own killed us.
We knew no new thing was coming fast, we set ablaze our hope when we hopped into this war.
Our hearts are torn with tons of bullets, fire and stabs.
And here we are in the depths of our own sin, we hear the wail of the wandering relatives and friends.
We wonder, is this it? Is our life for them?
Will we ever be us again?
We wait. Our gaze is fixed on that little hanging hope that we will be us again.
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I am a passionate writer, teacher and journalist. My passion for writing pushes me to write and share stories from my community.
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