Freedom Park by Idris Sado



freesom nantygreens

These walls
were grim and gloomy.
Here many a fate
met their doom.


I still see them
in their chains,
their sweaty bodies
tilling the grounds.


They wet the soil
with tears
from their eyes,
I still can hear
their cries
in these winds


Freedom so far,
in bitterness they accept
their misfortune


Day and night
in these walls
their world is conformed,
no escape from its savagery,
and the jailer's whip


Days of biting hunger
alas how useless it is to hope
crammed into breathlessness
in this pigeon hole
called prison cells


Life has no meaning
death they impatiently await
Bound never to feel again
the sweet carnality
of the opposite sex


In these chains
they have been cursed
to spend their lives
till death comes calling.

Creative works (literature, art and culture) emerging from Nigeria.

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