- © 2005 CMA Media Inc. or its licensors
Your eyes looked until you could bear
see no more how rotting corpses piled high
on a church doorstep the ash-faced priest
for dearest butchered orphans he weeps;
your help he pleads
but Blue Beret, you only stand
and cover mouth with kerchiefed hand.
While the crushing calm of the morning
re-invigorates the Kigali starling,
sing! bird, sing! til your troubled throat bursts
'round the génocidaire Hutu who wipes clean
his alibi — the pungent machete's bloody glean.
The sister-hunter resumes his relentless tempo
of daily kills, Our Father who art prays Romeo,
with clenched jaw and fist the prayer that falls
on deafened ears, the First World's heart cuts
the strings that tie your eye to a Tutsi mother,
her mutilated breasts serve the media fodder
while her baby, immortal survivor flares
across your face, a supernova from the sky.