If ever tears tore their way through my eyes
Then the pain perceived at that moment was false,
For any hour I called out crying the sun had set on me
Was an exhibition of a mirage of the reality really is,
For when the anthem of a dying day swept through the atmosphere,
Blackbirds flew down to reap the souls of those who sang along.
If ever I raised alarm for being under attack from evil angels
Then God have mercy on my soul, for the blood that caught
The floor from innocent souls deeply cuts through my heart,
And it tortures me much that it breaks my brain to psychological chemicals.
So I raise my voice to the higher lands and ask that the broken
Feel the comfort of the creator, giver and taker of lives.
I light a candle as a tribute to them yet I see through its flames,
Our lives are candles and each passing day becomes the flame,
That as we wax eloquent the flames melts us down yet we pay no attention,
We pay no attention to the fact that our own flames melt us down.
As they lay underneath the soil in body and in soul ascend to heaven,
May the comfort from the taker of souls breath to our disturbed hearts.
in respect to the fallen souls of our brothers and sisters following the Garissa Attack. May they rest in peace