League Day 24: MOHAMMED SHAMS-DEEN vs IBRAHIM YUSUF
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
MOHAMMED SHAMS-DEEN
TITLE: "Symptoms of Curse
This plant was dessert
Watered into forest of banquet
So our relatives trooped to tap necker
But when they slew the gardener
The tree that once welled juices of paradise
Now fart petrified incense
And wilts from its branches.
Hear harmattan speaks of torture
Of our countrymen who ran into the mouth of turmoil.
He brakes the news
That our brothers are lands
With whips drawing their contours.
Brothers, chained men sold like goods
Sisters in ropes stained with tears
Are books forcefully opened to write libido
They eat salt-water as breakfast
And air as supper.
Even some are corn roasted alive.
I thought the twilight was for sunrise
But it is of a mistaken sunset.
This plant was dessert
Watered into forest of banquet
So our relatives trooped to tap necker
But when they slew the gardener
The tree that once welled juices of paradise
Now fart petrified incense
And wilts from its branches.
Hear harmattan speaks of torture
Of our countrymen who ran into the mouth of turmoil.
He brakes the news
That our brothers are lands
With whips drawing their contours.
Brothers, chained men sold like goods
Sisters in ropes stained with tears
Are books forcefully opened to write libido
They eat salt-water as breakfast
And air as supper.
Even some are corn roasted alive.
I thought the twilight was for sunrise
But it is of a mistaken sunset.
IBRAHIM YUSUF
Title: UNTITLED
In the Abyss of Slavery:
poor bird
feathers cut
thighs tied tight
life becomes sore
no way to fly
the sky is locked
the keys
are my broken feathers.
the earth is hell
no where to run
for my thighs are tied!
I'll keep chirping
till my voice
take me away of the abyss.
In the Abyss of Slavery:
poor bird
feathers cut
thighs tied tight
life becomes sore
no way to fly
the sky is locked
the keys
are my broken feathers.
the earth is hell
no where to run
for my thighs are tied!
I'll keep chirping
till my voice
take me away of the abyss.
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