| What horrors we wage | |
| in the light of day, | |
| bodies left decaying | |
| for the world to see. | |
| Conakry, | |
| September, two thousand nine. | |
| Moïse Dadis, | |
| junta chief, will not resign | |
| his command | |
| to sworn democratic law. | |
| Thousands band | |
| to demand that he withdraw. | |
| Crowd trapped. | |
| Soldiers | |
| gather, | |
| guns drawn. | |
| Fire. | |
| Butchery veiled in tear gas, | |
| bayonettes puncture eyes. | |
| Flesh strewn across the grass, | |
| knives sever robes from thighs. | |
| Women raped with gun barrels, | |
| bullet through a child’s head, | |
| howls of humans feral | |
| as they haul away the dead. | |
| Red berets, | |
| elite guard, | |
| murder-crazed, | |
| a city scarred. | |
| Stores they loot, | |
| ribs they snap | |
| under boot. | |
| Cadavers wrapped. | |
| “C’est du | |
| jamais-vu,” | |
| they said. | |
| “Pourquoi | |
| nous, Allah?” | |
| they pled | |
| to absent god. | |
| At the morgue a mother | |
| seeks out her son. | |
| No remains were found. | |
| A desperate father | |
| reaches for his gun, | |
| his daughter bound | |
| in an army base, | |
| used by soldiers in turn, | |
| ‘til a rapist discerned | |
| her familiar face, | |
| and, shamed, set her | |
| free. | |
| She speaks no word to her doctor, | |
| for fear her pain disgrace her kin. | |
| For weeks she dared not sleep or dream. | |
| Camara denied blame for the atrocity: | |
| “The military’s beyond my control.” | |
| The chief of his guard drew a pistol | |
| and fired a round in the president’s | |
| skull. | |
| He survives, | |
| abdicates. | |
| A flood of | |
| candidates | |
| compete in Guinea’s | |
| first truly | |
| democratic vote. | |
| Anarchy | |
| mars the year. | |
| Election | |
| frauds unclear. | |
| Will of the people: | |
| Guineans elect | |
| Alpha Condé. | |
| The girl’s suicide, | |
| the son never found, | |
| the butchers alive. | |
| The butchers alive. |
| What horrors we wage | |
| in the light of day, | |
| bodies left decaying | |
| for the world to see. | |
| Conakry, | |
| September, two thousand nine. | |
| Mo se Dadis, | |
| junta chief, will not resign | |
| his command | |
| to sworn democratic law. | |
| Thousands band | |
| to demand that he withdraw. | |
| Crowd trapped. | |
| Soldiers | |
| gather, | |
| guns drawn. | |
| Fire. | |
| Butchery veiled in tear gas, | |
| bayonettes puncture eyes. | |
| Flesh strewn across the grass, | |
| knives sever robes from thighs. | |
| Women raped with gun barrels, | |
| bullet through a child' s head, | |
| howls of humans feral | |
| as they haul away the dead. | |
| Red berets, | |
| elite guard, | |
| murdercrazed, | |
| a city scarred. | |
| Stores they loot, | |
| ribs they snap | |
| under boot. | |
| Cadavers wrapped. | |
| " C' est du | |
| jamaisvu," | |
| they said. | |
| " Pourquoi | |
| nous, Allah?" | |
| they pled | |
| to absent god. | |
| At the morgue a mother | |
| seeks out her son. | |
| No remains were found. | |
| A desperate father | |
| reaches for his gun, | |
| his daughter bound | |
| in an army base, | |
| used by soldiers in turn, | |
| ' til a rapist discerned | |
| her familiar face, | |
| and, shamed, set her | |
| free. | |
| She speaks no word to her doctor, | |
| for fear her pain disgrace her kin. | |
| For weeks she dared not sleep or dream. | |
| Camara denied blame for the atrocity: | |
| " The military' s beyond my control." | |
| The chief of his guard drew a pistol | |
| and fired a round in the president' s | |
| skull. | |
| He survives, | |
| abdicates. | |
| A flood of | |
| candidates | |
| compete in Guinea' s | |
| first truly | |
| democratic vote. | |
| Anarchy | |
| mars the year. | |
| Election | |
| frauds unclear. | |
| Will of the people: | |
| Guineans elect | |
| Alpha Conde. | |
| The girl' s suicide, | |
| the son never found, | |
| the butchers alive. | |
| The butchers alive. |
| What horrors we wage | |
| in the light of day, | |
| bodies left decaying | |
| for the world to see. | |
| Conakry, | |
| September, two thousand nine. | |
| Mo se Dadis, | |
| junta chief, will not resign | |
| his command | |
| to sworn democratic law. | |
| Thousands band | |
| to demand that he withdraw. | |
| Crowd trapped. | |
| Soldiers | |
| gather, | |
| guns drawn. | |
| Fire. | |
| Butchery veiled in tear gas, | |
| bayonettes puncture eyes. | |
| Flesh strewn across the grass, | |
| knives sever robes from thighs. | |
| Women raped with gun barrels, | |
| bullet through a child' s head, | |
| howls of humans feral | |
| as they haul away the dead. | |
| Red berets, | |
| elite guard, | |
| murdercrazed, | |
| a city scarred. | |
| Stores they loot, | |
| ribs they snap | |
| under boot. | |
| Cadavers wrapped. | |
| " C' est du | |
| jamaisvu," | |
| they said. | |
| " Pourquoi | |
| nous, Allah?" | |
| they pled | |
| to absent god. | |
| At the morgue a mother | |
| seeks out her son. | |
| No remains were found. | |
| A desperate father | |
| reaches for his gun, | |
| his daughter bound | |
| in an army base, | |
| used by soldiers in turn, | |
| ' til a rapist discerned | |
| her familiar face, | |
| and, shamed, set her | |
| free. | |
| She speaks no word to her doctor, | |
| for fear her pain disgrace her kin. | |
| For weeks she dared not sleep or dream. | |
| Camara denied blame for the atrocity: | |
| " The military' s beyond my control." | |
| The chief of his guard drew a pistol | |
| and fired a round in the president' s | |
| skull. | |
| He survives, | |
| abdicates. | |
| A flood of | |
| candidates | |
| compete in Guinea' s | |
| first truly | |
| democratic vote. | |
| Anarchy | |
| mars the year. | |
| Election | |
| frauds unclear. | |
| Will of the people: | |
| Guineans elect | |
| Alpha Condé. | |
| The girl' s suicide, | |
| the son never found, | |
| the butchers alive. | |
| The butchers alive. |
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