Tag Archives: freedom

If I’m Forced To Fight

If I’m forced to fight, I’ll fight.

I’ll fight for what is mine

I’ll fight with all my might

I’ll give up everything.

But while I still have

Life in me, I’ll raise

My hands in the air.

I’ll fight for freedom

I’ll fight for love

I’ll fight for my possession 

I’ll Fight from dawn to dusk

I’ll fight with all my strength

But while I still have

Life in me, I’ll  raise 

My hands in the air.

I fight to live, not to die.

I fight to fight again,

Not to fight to death.

I fight to save my life,

Not to bring an end.

I’ll have this in mind

Whenever I fight for

What is mine


Our past heroes fought till the last drop of their blood but they fought for nothing. Millions lost their lives, yet nothing was achieved. Why fight again? Why expose so many lives to another wreckage? 

If we lost in the past, what makes us think we can win now? What makes us think we won’t end up losing again?

I know we must keep fighting until we get what we desperately need but is life of so many worth sacrificing for nothing?

All I do everyday is pray. Let God have His way and set the captive of the mighty free without battle.

Let there be no war.


Free Verse – Empty Street

Empty streets recite
the lyrics of sovereignty
to the frigid dignity.
The detained hero is fallen
to harsh bellies,
condemned for standing tall
when the stooped quieted
their voices and ducked bullets from multiple gashes.
The land weeps for the slain
who the endangered now see
as the fortunate ones.
They are fortunate in death;
their horror, anguish
are shaved off with
sudden animalistic transition.
They were fortunate when
the night is as horrible as
the day and demise awaited
at the doorposts of time.
There is nowhere to hide
from the harm that has
engulfed the land where
the sun still rises.
No hiding place on the land
which the marginalised own.
No one knows when the end
to this terror will come
And no one knows what
future holds for the living.
If the hero makes it alive,
the streets will live again
But life will remain the same,
until freedom comes.

©Fiez

More poems

“As I Walked Out The Door…”

As I walked out the door towards the care that would lead to my freedom, I knew if I didn’t leave my bitterness and hatred behind, I’d still be in prison.
There is no peace, no freedom without forgiveness.

Forgiveness can be as simple as saying this to a perpetrator; You did horrible, horrible things to me…but…I forgive you. I forgive you from the dept of my heart.

Forgiveness brings peace of mind and begins a healing process.

Whatever Happens

‘He is missing,’ One of them said and I swallowed my breath. ‘Stop. Stop.’ The vehicle came to a halt. I could hear their feet hurrying to the back of the truck. My body trembled from the stiffness of my neck. My hands weakened from holding the metal edge of the cargo bed. My feet hung far above the tarred road.

The flashlight came on. They shone so brightly that my tightly closed eyes could not dispel the brightness. I was surprised they searched inside the cargo bed. They did not see me. I tried moving towards the front of the truck but the light came on my fingers.

‘I found him.’ he said.

The other man came around. His torchlight focused on my face. It’s over. I had given up hope when something miraculous happened as they waited for my stuck self to climb back up or jump down. A police vehicle came along. I could see the red and blue light flickering atop their car but the alarm wasn’t on.

The flashlight came off and my heart raced as the engine roared. With the police car right behind us and seemed as though they were about to overtake the truck and not stop it. The cops weren’t aware of what was going on. If they passed the truck, I would be in deep trouble. I needed to do something. I needed to release the truck and crash on the road. Whatever happened to me, would be better than having the vicious men take me to where they called the slaughterhouse. I jumped to the roadside and felt my ankle snap. The police vehicle sped past the truck and it halted in the distance. The flashlights swept the back of the truck and the road. I limped into the bush and waited. The engine roared and they were gone and thinned out.

After what seemed like an hour later, I limped along the road. I did not know where I was or where I was heading to but I knew I was free from the vicious men who caught me two months ago and couldn’t get my poor family to pay my ransom.

© Fiez

The Passage

A voice shrieked twice in the thick darkness and went dead.

A familiar fear rolled in everything that breathed.

Generations had come and gone and no one could put an end to the mysterious evil passage.

People were snatched from their homes mysteriously and lost forever.

“No one dares to challenge the unseen,” they said. “No one can fight a spirit,” and so people kept dying.

But one day, a brave man dared into the dark beating his chest.

‘Enough is enough! We shall die no more!’

A second shriek quenched his lamp but he was too bold and determined to be scared.

The brave man felt a hand grip his neck. He was determined to fight but his strength was no match. He struck and hit but there was no impact.

He felt another hand around his middle and the squeeze was enourmous.

He dropped his sword and then his word; ‘Whatever you are, my blood will fight you for all the ages to come. I will die, but you will not kill my people anymore!’

Morning came and people mourned.

Month after month, generation after generation, the people didn’t see the evil passage. It’s gone with the brave man’s breath.