A poem for South Sudan

I am the land
When they ask me who I am
I tell them I am the land
I am the land of a thousand blistering suns
Suns for many decades have risen over
Scorching desserts
I am the land of generations long gone
A new era where ancestors are reborn, reincarnated
Into cultivated thinkers
Chained by Systems of
Oppression
Corruption
And destruction
I am the land of flowing rivers
Rivers that trail far and beyond
Connecting valleys of
Hope
Forgiveness
And redemption
When they ask me who I am
I tell them I am the land of vast vegetation
The land where majestic beasts continuously
Decimated into lifeless limbs now hang as false trophies in the living rooms of Privileged lives
I am the land who has birthed many sons and daughters
Yet watched them return to me in blood
Bone
And soil
I am the land where the of the familiar beat of drums
The Rhyme and rhythm of the songs of the clans has been suffocated by the menace
Music of machine guns
I am the silent land
I am the silent mother
Under the weight of metal tanks listening to the cries of my children
And the whispers of thanks uttered by the gentle souls
Who survived to live another day
I am the land of blood stained legacies
Histories and regimes of courage that were supposed to yield
Periods of prosperity
Freedom
Peace
And unity
When they ask me who I am
I tell them I am the land whose anthem is hope
I sing Hope for the future