we as Somalis need to stand up speak up for our brothers and sisters who suffering under the Ethiopian regime because they only have us to speak for them.
Trees offer shade no more, houses offer shelter no more and mothers can offer comfort no more
The unpitying heat scorching the feet of the orphan child as he searches for his parents and from burns his body all sore
He stands dazed and confused without his parents; now sorry for all the times he ignored his mother’s calls
Only the ground knows the pain of his tears and his cries upon deaf ears they fall.
The wild he wonders too young to understand why his village went up flames
A malevolent regime ruthless and relentless in its pursuit of taking innocent lives is to blame
This is the orphan child’s silent cry
The mother sheds tears of blood under a crimson sky
She raises her hands and supplicates to ALLAH the most high
She asks for the cool breeze of peace so that her heart might one day be at ease
Remembering the day, they came to ask her to take the life of her last child
and how on that day she too died on the inside
Everyday is a struggle to survive and her will to live she must at each dawn revive
Wondering why her people have left her, while death and destruction want to own her
This is the mother's silent cry
The young woman was once a symbol of purity and pride
Now her honour lays tarnished, tossed away in dirt
Savages took it away now she often contemplates life’s worth
She asks herself, to the enemy’s child how will I give birth?
She was once a strong Somali woman but at present, she is just a broken woman battered by a sequence of atrocious events that are beyond her control
Yet those who have the power are deaf to her cries and in her suffering, they play a great role
This is the young woman’s silent cry
Tears and blood water this land
Orphans dying of starvation moan “have mercy o mankind”
A mother gasps for air as the bullet pierces the heart of her last child
Men are seen as savage beasts and therefore must be killed
A land under many dark clouds of oppression
But many men have chosen to stand tall and to free it is their only mission
Striving with their hearts and souls to rid the people of this murderous plague
Oppressors sit in offices while they should be stood at The Hague
Victory will come sweet for some while others shall feel its heat
Murderers through justice shall taste defeat
They say the pen is mightier than the sword
We fight on with the courage of great words
We will not be silenced, for eyes and ears have been sealed for too long
The voice of voiceless will be heard clearer than any song
This is our not so silent cry
Asha Ali
Copyright © 2009
Trees offer shade no more, houses offer shelter no more and mothers can offer comfort no more
The unpitying heat scorching the feet of the orphan child as he searches for his parents and from burns his body all sore
He stands dazed and confused without his parents; now sorry for all the times he ignored his mother’s calls
Only the ground knows the pain of his tears and his cries upon deaf ears they fall.
The wild he wonders too young to understand why his village went up flames
A malevolent regime ruthless and relentless in its pursuit of taking innocent lives is to blame
This is the orphan child’s silent cry
The mother sheds tears of blood under a crimson sky
She raises her hands and supplicates to ALLAH the most high
She asks for the cool breeze of peace so that her heart might one day be at ease
Remembering the day, they came to ask her to take the life of her last child
and how on that day she too died on the inside
Everyday is a struggle to survive and her will to live she must at each dawn revive
Wondering why her people have left her, while death and destruction want to own her
This is the mother's silent cry
The young woman was once a symbol of purity and pride
Now her honour lays tarnished, tossed away in dirt
Savages took it away now she often contemplates life’s worth
She asks herself, to the enemy’s child how will I give birth?
She was once a strong Somali woman but at present, she is just a broken woman battered by a sequence of atrocious events that are beyond her control
Yet those who have the power are deaf to her cries and in her suffering, they play a great role
This is the young woman’s silent cry
Tears and blood water this land
Orphans dying of starvation moan “have mercy o mankind”
A mother gasps for air as the bullet pierces the heart of her last child
Men are seen as savage beasts and therefore must be killed
A land under many dark clouds of oppression
But many men have chosen to stand tall and to free it is their only mission
Striving with their hearts and souls to rid the people of this murderous plague
Oppressors sit in offices while they should be stood at The Hague
Victory will come sweet for some while others shall feel its heat
Murderers through justice shall taste defeat
They say the pen is mightier than the sword
We fight on with the courage of great words
We will not be silenced, for eyes and ears have been sealed for too long
The voice of voiceless will be heard clearer than any song
This is our not so silent cry
Asha Ali
Copyright © 2009
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