Even though termed sacred,<\/p>\n\n\n\n
It turned out to be a shrine of hatred. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Suddenly, the dead lay in silence,\u00a0<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Innocence calls for justice as the nation cries for peace.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The birds sing, the winds blow, But the dead never show or glow\u00a0<\/p>\n\n\n\n
For they are entangled in a how and bow <\/p>\n\n\n\n
From the pain of the killer’s paw <\/p>\n\n\n\n
As the faithful stood and saw <\/p>\n\n\n\n
No one to remove them from the claw.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Lived in the same world with no pity <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Laughed in the same village and city<\/p>\n\n\n\n
But nature has taken away <\/p>\n\n\n\n
And the respect of dignity<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The beauty of human sanctity.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
In Ntarama the dead lay in silence<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The future haunts the past that may last <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Though we long to move ahead fast <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Yet the present begs for forgiveness <\/p>\n\n\n\n
The silent dead smile but yet cry <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Trapped in a haven of human destruction <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Destroying the love and unity of a nation. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
In Ntarama, there winds of faith that calls for love\u00a0<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The faith that the silent once trusted <\/p>\n\n\n\n
And yet betrayed them and molested <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Suspicion and mistrust created <\/p>\n\n\n\n
But the dead will still smile yet cry. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
In Ntarama, can see them kneel and pray <\/p>\n\n\n\n
About the passing away of a dark yesterday <\/p>\n\n\n\n
And the dawning of a new and special day <\/p>\n\n\n\n
As they press on in every way <\/p>\n\n\n\n
On this beautiful amahoro highway <\/p>\n\n\n\n
As they live in a gladly way <\/p>\n\n\n\n
There stands YOU A ray of hope as children smile, <\/p>\n\n\n\n
In a fascinating style <\/p>\n\n\n\n
And this we need to apply <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Beautiful voices of today and tomorrow <\/p>\n\n\n\n
And the end of painful sorrow <\/p>\n\n\n\n
May the silent souls of NTARAMA Rest In Peace.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Ntarama Church: A Poem by Hope Azeda & George Shyimanyura Written on 15-08-08<\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Even though termed sacred, It turned out to be a shrine of hatred. Suddenly, the dead lay in silence,\u00a0 Innocence calls for justice as the nation cries for peace. The birds sing, the winds blow, But the dead never show or glow\u00a0 For they are entangled in a how and bow From the pain of<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":9069,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[81],"tags":[106],"ppma_author":[122],"class_list":{"0":"post-9068","1":"post","2":"type-post","3":"status-publish","4":"format-standard","5":"has-post-thumbnail","7":"category-culture","8":"tag-catch-feels-get-high"},"yoast_head":"\n