16/01/2023
When you rode upon my land, I remembered what it felt like to hurt. I took life to be a past tense for the anguish that rode upon me throughout the years. I lived a life of hopeful regrets that haunt every demon within. Always trying to escape but ending up trapped in this flesh of a prison. So I turn my gaze unto you as you bless me with amnesia. As you call every able body defending its home a rebel, a terrorist, a thief.
When I gaze upon my land, soil enriched with the blood of innocent lives, I remember all the suffering. Not just the past, but the present herding of immobile citizens grazing off the toxic embargoes legitimized by thieving farmers that sit idle in conclave. Redesigning their distractions to bless us with amnesia.
When I left my land...
Do you remember a time before exodus?
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