The Blessed Curse.

Abdulai Mansaray, author
Abdulai Mansaray, author
You trampled the earth, as you travelled the world.
Traversed the sea of death, but then you came to rest.
On a mound of dirt, your ancestors laid to rest
From journeys so weary, your feet bled for rest.
 In a Trojan horse, you bore me gifts
With warm embrace, I caught your drift
But when you showed your teeth
I got the drift; but too late for your teeth.
With surgical precision, you devoured earth's bowels
With incisions from shovels, you gouged her entrails.
But beneath these combs, you made my own tombs.
Just free to roam, as I made my farewells.
As son of the soil, they came home to toil.
In blast- furnace entrails, you reaped its spoils
In pound –soaked gullies, you sapped and sucked
Raped mother earth, and told us “you’re fucked.
You reaped and raped, until bone dry
She bled and cried, you left her to die.
You blood-soaked diamonds will linger and glitter.
Your diamonds are forever, but our pains, never over.
The women and children you raped,
For the glittering diamonds you grabbed.
Diamonds worn in innocence, with no conscience.
Are soaked in blood, of virgin innocence
Mother earth, your entrails of wealth
Bore me nothing, but merchants of death
Your umbilical cord, my line to life,
Was diabolically cut, and left shrivelled to die.
Mother earth, you know I feel your pain
Raped in pursuit of some earthly gain.
If diamonds are forever
Your pains will linger forever.
As you travelled the stairwell of hope
In ravaged beauty, but devoid of hope
You cleansed your pain- filled heart
With more disdain, on your scorched earth.
For vanity, you killed your soul
With impunity, in God-free zone
You gained the world, but sold your soul
For all I know, a bag of gold.
The showers of diamond, is my blessed curse
That coursed my veins, in crimson blood
And quenched my thirst for cursed blessings
With all the diamonds and showers of gold.
Now you’ve burned the breath of this land,
The sons of the soil, hope for nothing
Now you demand all that is left; Death
The young generations, fear for nothing.
So where do you stand, in your land called Kono
The land that breast-fed your country’s coffers
Is left to linger with landless loafers.
As we keep waiting, you told me “Nma kono”.


  1. Thanks big bro for you brilliant and creative writting…am so proud to have passed through the same school with you…Indeed TO LIVE FOR TRUTH…says it all.Keep up the good work.

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