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Battles, Scars and Victory
They were missing
when our mission was fragile on the soil
land and clouds as far as the eyes could see
they were hissing
when our vision brougth pains like boils
we strayed like a floating wreckage on the sea
we were wishing
that our wounds would turn to scars
we saw promises and lies like identical twins
we were fishing
like a despised slave wishing for the stars
hiding our usual painful wince
we are winning
our roots go deep in the time of drought
a plant that shames the salt land
we are living
like a platform in the crowd
our help comes from strong hands
poem
by
Feyisayo Anjorin
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