The Devil on Horseback
The devil on horseback gallops through the sand,
Past the rotting corpses floating in the Nile.
His dark shadow stretches the breadth of the land,
Feeding on the blood, the grief, and guile.
He rides through villages razed to ash,
Each hoofbeat a curse, each breath a flame.
Shame on the hands that fuel this fire,
On the generals feasting while Sudan burns.
Shame on the world that turned its face,
As hungry mothers beg for bread in vain.
Shame on arms traders prolonging the war,
On the silence complicit in the devil’s return.
Last week, the Blue Nile ran red with blood:
Girls dragged through dust, their chastity revoked.
Men stacked like firewood atop the roof
Of a clinic that was later bombed to dust.
“Crimes against humanity,” the UN declares,
Yet gold nuggets are smuggled out by the tons.
In Zamzam camp, the vultures dine
On children’s bellies swollen tight.
The Security Council drafts a line:
“We strongly condemn.” Then fades from sight.
Six percent of the aid they pledged
Is like a single penny flung to the dead.
Twenty-two years since Darfur’s genocide,
The same killers ride through the same sandy earth.
The same graves grieve though years have passed,
The same lies sold as peace and worth.
O Nubia, who will carve your ancient name
In the future’s mind, not history’s void?
The soccer pitches are now makeshift graves.
I’m not there but heard it on the airwaves.
The scramble for minerals, the looted gold reserves,
While Dubai brokers juggle, civilians rot in the Nile.
The traders smile while the corpses swell,
Building fortunes in this abominable hell.
Raise an embargo! Starve the guns!
Let the warlords choke on air.
Flood the camps with medicine and care,
Not with terror and manufactured fear.
But the devil laughs, his path is clear:
Onward to Urušalim. The end is near.
Additional Reading: New Horrors Unfold in Darfur as Sudan War Hits Two-Year Mark
Read More by Skendong: Africanistan Epic: The Ultimate War on Terror