The Dark Sahel


It's far too dark to fight in here 
Why we fight is never clear 
Do we fight for the cries we hear 
Or do we fight conquer fear?
One thing's true, our deaths are so near 
So hold on tight to the things you hold dear 

We pick ourselves up, we don't ask why 
 If you want an answer just look me in the eyes 
If I don't do this the raven's going to fly 
Too many mothers are going to cry 
Jets falling out of the cold night sky 
As the soldiers of fortune will pass on by    

Everything goes down once it's begun 
Everybody everywhere is going to run 
There's a price for having too much fun 
Don't get caught with the smoking gun          
So bake yourself in the burning sun 
But if there's too much sun, you're over and done 

If you want to leave, just ring the bell 
You'll escape this living hell 
Faking it's not going to sell 
You'll be like all of the others who fell 
Nobody's ever doing so well 
When they're trapped inside the dark Sahel        



I love the rich imagery in this poem. I loved the parts "Too many mothers are going to cry, jets falling out of the cold night sky."

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