Poetry from Daniel Aondona

My body is a temple of pain built by my countrymen

My countrymen know how to torture this land,
they wear evil all over themselves,
seeking futile blessings from empty heavens.
I smell the terrors of forthcoming nights
as I answer the call of saddened ghosts
who scatter their tombstones to rise for vengeance
against the looters of their dreams.
The body of mine is a temple of pain,
within myself, I bear a running stream of grief
yet I'm unable to pour out its waters
even at the pleasure of orgasm.
Just then, the voice in my head tells me
my tranquilizer lies on the seductive body of a girl
so I searched the earth for a damsel 
To steal away my pain & make me gay.
But the scripture warns me
to keep my soul clean, else I'll dwell in hell.
Now I spell the sorrowful name of my country
On a piece of broken glass & fight to stay alive
for behold, I fight my wars in my head
& every battle is a verse of woeful memories
whose strokes leaves scars on my heavy heart.
Look, I'm a boy who has forgotten the sound of my mother's voice
I mingle with shadows for company while inhaling the misery which my countrymen have spread into the air to suffocate my life & abort my hope.