Raped Soul
By Bashir Yahuza Malumfashi
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He Raped Her… Who raped the innocent damsel and why? Find out in this captivating, mind boggling rendition, titled: RAPED SOUL by sincerely yours, Bashir Yahuza Malumfashi.
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The man cannot see,
How Poverty’s dark shadow
Looms near,
A constant reminder
Of our deepest fear.
The man don’t know
How empty pockets,
Bare shelves
And a future unsure.
He seams unaware,
The weight of poverty’s chains
We cannot endure.
He cannot reason
That despair creeps in
Like a thief in the night,
Stealing hope
And leaving only a faint light.
The leader is silent
About our struggle to survive,
A daily, grinding test,
Despair’s heavy burden
We cannot find rest.
He cares not
That depression’s dark clouds gather,
A stormy sea,
A reflection of the turmoil
That’s within us.
The deaf cannot hear
The cries of the afflicted,
The anguish and pain,
A nation in depression,
With no clear gain.
The sadist in him knows not
That deprivation’s cruel hand,
A merciless fate,
Leaves us with nothing,
An empty, barren state.
The Pheroah is nonchalant,
The lack of basic needs,
A fundamental human right,
Deprivation’s bitter taste,
A constant, gnawing fight.
As he rules,
Hunger’s pangs,
A growling beast,
A persistent, nagging guest.
Let him know,
It’s a reminder of the scarcity,
The lack, the unrest.
As he rides in fool’s paradise,
We search for sustenance,
On daily, weary quest,
While hunger’s sharp sting,
A painful, hollow unrest.
The man turned deaf ears
As disease’s dark specter,
A looming, ominous threat,
A fragile healthcare system,
A population in defeat.
He watches
The spread of illness,
A rapid, deadly,
Merciless pace,
Disease’s cruel grip,
A nation in a helpless,
Hopeless space.
The boastful ruler,
All eyes all ears
While death’s dark shadow,
A silent, stealthy,
Merciless creep,
A nation in mourning,
A future in eternal sleep.
He parades in riches
While we losses loved ones,
A grief, a pain,
A sorrow so deep.
Death’s cold, dark grasp,
A nation in eternal sleep.
The man is happy
That squalor’s filthy grasp,
A dirty, grimy,
Foul embrace.
Armed with heavy taxes,
The man celebrates
As we lack basic amenities,
A population in a hopeless space.
He cares less
The stench of decay,
A foul, putrid,
Nauseating smell,
Squalor’s disgusting grip,
A nation in a perpetual hell.
The man knows
Famine’s deadly stare,
A cold, hard,
Merciless gaze,
A nation on the brink,
A future in a desperate,
Hopeless daze.
His hands akimbo,
We face scarcity of food,
A lack, a want,
A desperate,
Hungry cry.
He laughs
As famine’s cruel grip,
A nation in a perpetual,
Desperate sigh.
He steers, sees
Degradation’s downward spiral,
A vicious, merciless,
Endless cycle,
A nation in decline,
A future in a dark,
Hopeless, endless tunnel.
The loss of dignity,
A people in a state
Of perpetual shame,
Degradation’s cruel grasp,
A nation in a perpetual,
Hopeless game.
He’s frankly aware,
The killings and bloodshed,
A nation in a state of war,
A future in a dark,
Hopeless, endless,
Merciless roar.
He’s mindless
To the cries of the victims,
The anguish and the pain,
Killings and bloodshed,
A nation in a perpetual,
Hopeless, deadly stain.
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© Bashir Yahuza Malumfashi,
Saturday 21-05-1446 (Hijriyya)
23-11-2024 (Miladiyya)
The ‘Raped Soul’ poem by Mal. Bashir Yahuza Malumfashi is insightful and well articulated .It chronicle a leader who care less about the pain, anguish and suffering of his people evidenced by his I don’t care attitude to the plight of his people.These breeds poverty, insecurity, substance abuse and rape of our collective community peace, serenity and harmony.Kudos!
Mr.Fagbola, your comment is highly appreciated. Thanks.