A khamsin blew the desert sand for thirty days,
we crossed the erg, we crossed the sink.
Along the way we crept and hid, avoiding gunmen’s eyes,
we crossed the erg, we crossed the sink.
In Tripoli we waited while the wind still blew,
thirty days of whispering dust in our eyes.
We avoided the hunter, the haters, who’d have us die,
thirty days of whispering dust in our eyes.
On a dark, still, night we stole to the shore,
We boarded a ship to cross the waters.
Cramped and crowded, no chains but our fears,
aboard the ship we nearly crossed the waters.
No food, no water, no privacy, but life,
we rocked and rolled on choppy seas.
Abandoned by crew when navy ships drew near,
we rocked and rolled over in choppy seas.
Once under water, twice under water, third’s an unlucky charm
sightless I seek freedom’s moonlit shore.
Floating in silence, lost in dark seas, alone
my sightless eyes see freedom’s moonlit shore.
text by stuartcturnbull. Image by Peggychoucair from Pixabay