League Day 23: HEVARDINAR INSPIRED vs ONI TOMIWA

This duel is dedicated to all victims of the modern day slavery in Libya. Your voices are heard on this side.

NOTE;
1) The judges decision takes 70% of the judgement while well wishes and lovers of poetry votes takes 30%.

2) Upon no circumstance must any of the above mentioned poets vote.

3) The contestants are urged to invite friends to Vote for them using the comment section of this post. No rule exempts you from canvassing for votes.

5) Voting lasts for 18 hours from commencement of Duel.

6) Vote using I VOTE POEM 1 or I VOTE POEM 2

7) Results would be uploaded briefly after the closure of votes.

Good luck to the wordlords.. LET THE BATTLE BEGIN!

THEME: ENSLAVED

HEVARDINAR INSPIRED

TITLE: Enslaved 

Men and women of black nations 

Seeking refuge in another man's land 

Greener pastures they duel on 

Thinking all hope is lost in their homes 

Italy by road, Europe by sea 

People get auctioned 

Like used equipment that doesn't have values 

Traders are business vagabonds

Oh Africa! 

Why have we fallen victims in this century of ours?

People of my complexion get tortured and chained 

For days and weeks with no food at hand.

What pleasure is derived from it?

To see the pain of another man's mother,

The tears of children, the  scars of fathers 

And the death of many 

We're enslaved by our mind 

Culture and traditions has been disposed in the sea

Ignorance becomes the modern king 

Everyone wants to travel before the others 

Families would learn from mistakes of their pals 

Tears from slavery would reduce 

When illiteracy stops ruling 

Lets go back to where we came from 

©hevardinar

ONI TOMIWA

Title: ENSLA(Y)VED

I am my father's heir

Yet a slave

Not in chains

Yet not free

I am a fruit

Stuck in the branches 

of a tree,

hidden.

Not cleansed, not squashed

Bruised. Broken. beclouded

A slave is not only that one

With padlocked mouth and chained legs

Or that one with ragged skin

Who cooks the meals

And eat the left-over(s).

A slave is not only that one

Churned in dark rooms

In the deserts of Libya.

A slave is that beign

Carrying about  programmed head

Speaking words

Collected from another mouth.

I am one.

Here, in my father's house

I must reason 

with my father's brain

Sing my father's song

Swallow the morsels

His hands had formed

Trod his chosen path

And not mine

Like a robot, 

subject to commands.

Freedom does not mean 

a bird should fly

But that it should fly

To where it wants

Not just to fetch fronds

And head back to mother's nest.

Enslaved I am

In my father's house.