The Foreigner’s Plight

The sky bled from every visceral
The clouds were clothed with red scars
I saw no horizon
For darkness mesmerized the light

There were gun shots
The streets littered with bloody sores
Who would save this ones?
For they are doomed and lost in gloom

The southern man drank of the foreigners skull
People said the Nigerian was the prey
Everyone saw the victim pray
But naught, the heavens never answered

In his pool of blood
He sets sail for oblivion
Floating atop the raft of horror
He sojourns to never return.

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