art, Congo, Philosophy, poetry, Politics, War

Les Effaceurs

Too many steps from here to there

I had too much time to think and to scream

Green about me like a choking cloud

Leafs likes eaves over my fearful head

Dripping drops of rain upon my naked chest

Vines and twigs flagellate me as I run

The burn of the thorny lash excruciating

Nothing more though then I deserved

And it distracted me from the horrors I had witnessed

No pain is greater than that of the mind

Forced to witness the pestiferous potential of human cruelty

Save the body forced against his will to take part in the same

I am inflicted and infected

I am a sore

A pustule

Between my bowls and heart a fistula

Clogged with a black pus

A sinister guilt

A horror and a shame

That I share with the disgusting fiends

I came upon

Whose crimes I witnessed

The crimes for which I became culpable for

By the sorrowful accident that is

My shared humanity with these villains

Oh how I loathe mankind

I bite my tongue to hold back the tears

The taste of my own blood on my teeth

Hides that of my erstwhile victim

Clearly

He was dead now, but not by my hand

But by the hands of the mad hunters

The ravenous fellows

Les Effaceurs

Oh but I did worse than kill

I partook of the spoils unknowingly of course

But does that really matter at all?

I took from the dead man once a living man

I took from him a resting place

I erased him

We did

Together and with a purpose

They hungered for the spirit to overwhelm their enemies

I sought a meal to sooth the torture inflicted upon me by

That dread spirit Famine

Regardless of the reason

We all ate plenty

Of that familiar flesh

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