Tiny child
sorcerers
who are demonised by the horror,
talk of dark night killings
and eating human flesh.

Nihilistic warlords darken
the days of the people.

Isolation
exploitation
jungle heat
and disease of body and spirit
reduce bare existence
to exactly that

and yet...
and yet...

the river flows
the forests flourish
and the song of the human spirit trembles
and grows...

Let the instruments of death
feel the pain
and bury the dead
with honour.

Let the maimed hearts
and bodies
find solace.

May Kurz’s
muddled, muddied
Heart of Darkness
be delivered
to the
Sunrise of Hope.
Let the cycle be broken.
Let all be resolute and free

for my humanity
cannot
be separated
from
yours.

(18 July 2005)

Diana van den Berg

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-south-african-prayer-for-the-congo/