She came to me,
blinded by the man
who took her life;
She runs in dark circles.
How can I help-
a blind woman who wished to die…
Who cries to me in my dreams?
In the morning when I arise,
I hear her children crying-
apart from what they do not
understand.
The vague trembling of their voices
are heard by the ears of saints (I hope).
The trumpets are sounded
by friends in black holes.
Stand apart, strong.
Do not weep behind the curtains
of your bedroom window.
Stand with visions of charity
in the shadow of the sun (I pray).
Woman of Darfur
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