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Listen to the ode of the unheard Ukrainian!
Dinah Thomas
20 February 2024
IRGA Jan-Feb Issue 2024
Image Credits: https://www.vaticannews.va/en/world/news/2022-03/over-one-and-a-half-million-refugees-fleeing-ukraine-russia.html
The game is on
You moved your Rook forward
Twenty-four-two-twenty twenty-two, how unfortunate is this day!
Looking up to the sky to see your drones strike
Kharkiv, Kherson and Port Mariupol, our brothers fighting against the tide
How unfortunate is this day!!
The platforms are full
No space for a head to lie
in the mind or the floor.
In fear and desperation for our lives,
we hold onto each other, gripped and tight.
Never for once did we imagine, that
our home is fought for different motives.
We defend while they strike at a home that is not theirs.
Our land had still waters and beautifully bloomed flowers.
The platforms were once for our feet to stand and wait
for trains to pass and to go about our day.
We built our own culture, race and our world
We made it ours.
We were once like tall towers holding our nation bold and strong,
but now you made us like rats hiding underground,
fearing the thundering bombs waiting to succumb us.
Now, the waters are troubled by your constant firing,
the flowers are dulled by the dark smoke you sent.
You don’t see them, but we do.
The way they peer through for clean air and light,
hoping to survive this breathless bright.
We say to them, “Better to dry up and die than to survive this misfortune.”
Now, we envy the dead flowers.
How long do we last?
We reached absolute hopelessness.
How much more should we take in?
We have seen enough of death,
just let us be, is our cry.
Then the game changed.
Our King and his army lashed out stronger than the enemy
They struck, and we defended
They advanced, but we regained it.
The tables have turned; our misfortune became our strength
We made our move, and we will continue to make our move
until their thirst to conquer ends.
Listen to the ode of the unheard Ukrainian!
Static tones in a repetition of the ringing words
“STOP THIS WAR, STOP THIS WAR”
Till her last breath gives up on her, and every cell accepts its fate.
Clear case of dysfunction these days
unfortunately, befell this generation.
At the least, the dead are buried and are safe in heaven
Let them get this sweet reward after this inhuman haven.
Until then, let the people cry,
“Just let us be, let us be.”