Funerals

Every barrel of crude
Lifted from our oily
Soils and waters
Is in itself a tight mixture
Compounds and blood
Blood of heroes
Sung and unsung.
Heroes whose fires
Where blown out
Before their prime.
 
Each shipment stolen
Contains the future
Of oppressed children unborn
 
At their funerals
We draw our strength
And nurture our resilience.
We forget the softness
Of our flesh against their bullets
And armour our souls
With the hope in victory
Of good over evil.