Beautiful site, riddled with battle scorn
Unmistakable, friend and foe lines, drawn
Commitment to causes, sworn
In days to come, this day we’ll morn
Life and love, from me was torn
As from dream, hell was born

As cold, summer’s night fall
A clearly hear the battle call
This battle, has no stop, nor stall
Someone must give, or all will fall
The innocent, backed against wall
Shots ring out, as the innocent fall

As I lay wounded, in no-man’s-land
Weary, of the blood on my hand
This, I’ll never understand
Beautiful, fertile, now barren land
Hopes and dreams, daggling on strand
These battles, so bland

I think back, while my life drain
When love, had no refrain
Making love, like soft rain
First born and all the gain
To our love, without restrain
This is insane!

Lush green fields, by concrete replaced
Once, beautiful scenery, deface
Greed and lust, the only race
Survival of the strongest, has no place
Take a bow, in disgrace

A society built, not on the strong
Rather, trickery and lies, so wrong
This cannot last, for long
Time will come, to right the wrong
The cycle, only 3600 years long

Our death and destruction, self design
Our existence, lush green field scattered with mine
One wrong step, direction, the end of line
Then why, do we taunt time?
Why, do we break, natures rhyme?

Barren, desert scenery
Filled, with unknown misery
Emptiness, replaced, not by chivalry
Rather greed, so easily

Smart bomb, controlled by hand
Cause death and destruction, in others land
Land of people and places, all on sand
This stupid hand, surely unmanned

Disrupted, by projectile
Life and limb, arranged in new style
Never, will they walk, another mile
THANK YOU!!! We needed this style

Black gold, flow like blood
Rich and thick, like wound in gut
Is this, salvation bud!!!
Now on sale, all your ****

The USA and UK involvement in the war in Iraq and Afghanistan.

Harsh, desert scenery
Haven, from lush misery
Forced by Impi, so greedily
This, our new sanctuary

Glitter, in desert sand
The cause, of moonlike land
No more men, with bow in hand
No more happy feet, stamping sand

Scenery, violated by man and machine
A hole, were last buck was seen
Spiritual pickings, now so lean
White man’s god, o so mean

Before white man’s god, we now bow
We ask the spirits, “How can you allow”
Is this, the final raw?
Are we, disappearing now?

After a visit to Jwaneng, a diamond mining settlement of De Beers in Botswana, I was impelled to write this poem to revolt against the injustices being committed against the Bushmen in Botswana. The Bushman are forcibly being removed from there desert land to make place for diamond mining activities.