Serena Anagbe / Photo Editor
A sunset by a house.
There’s a story of a father.
A father and his sons
His sons ran to their friends.
Their friends told them what happened.
‘’They beat us, they beat us up, they keep beating us!’’
His sons were their father’s sons.
His sons followed their friends.
Their friends led them to the soldiers.
The soldiers who stood with guns
The soldiers who stood with cold faces
The soldiers who beat them
The father told his sons to stay away.
The father told his sons to never look the soldiers in the eyes
“They’ll beat you,” he said.
“They beat us already,” they replied.
He beat them for this.
Then again, he said.
‘’Never look them in the eye.’’
The sons stared with pain.
Now the sons stared with anger.
Looking the soldiers in the eye
But this day would be different.
This day, the sons wouldn’t just look at the soldiers in the eye.
They would beat back.
They picked up some stones.
There’s a scene of young David, one day to be king, today a Shepard, he bends down near a stream, picking up some stones, these stones he will use against great goliath, these stones he will use to kill a giant, these stones he will use to rise a kingdom, these stones he will use to birth a legend, these stones he will use to immortalize a people.
These stones the sons would use on the soldiers.
The first one wrought an insult.
The second wrought a warning.
The third wrought a bullet.
Then bullets
The soldiers killed the father’s sons.
The father cried.
He cried at the sight of his sons.
His dead sons.
He looked to heaven, to God, to the world.
But nothing
Nothing
He was his sons’ father.
He went to the soldiers.
And he wailed in front of them.
He mourned in front of them.
He tore off his clothes.
Shouting and screaming
Looking them in the eye
Desperate, desperate for them to feel his pain.
But they stared on, guns in hand.
“We warned them,” they said.
There’s a scene of planes flying above, military planes. A thousand leaflets drop from them, striking to the ground, people pick them up, hearts dropping at the sight, it’s a warning, warning of coming doom.
The father learns the soldiers’ names.
The soldiers that killed his sons
He learns that they too are fathers.
And they too have sons.
The father wants them to feel his pain.
He mourns and grieves in front of them yet again.
Looking into their eyes
Uttering their fatherhood upon them
Then he warns them
‘’Blood for blood’’
They beat him, they beat him brutally.
But they do not kill him,
Pushing him right to the edge, but they do not let him fall.
He turns to the sky, to God, to the world.
Where is justice, “where is my justice!”
Nothing
Nothing
Nothing
Then the day comes, a day that would be different.
For this day, the father would not just look the soldiers in the eye.
He would beat back.
He picked up a gun.
And he killed the soldiers’ sons.
He looked upon them, and he saw his own sons.
The sky looked upon him, God staring down, the world watching.
In horror,
Utter Horror
The soldiers cried.
The soldiers mourned and grieved.
Shouting and screaming
Tearing their clothes
Ash upon their face
They looked up to the sky, up to God, up to the world.
And something
The sky rumbled in thunderous vengeance.
The world demanded justice.
And God was with them.
The soldiers came with their guns, rage and hurt in their hearts.
The father looked upon the marching army, watching doom.
He stared into the soldier’s eyes.
“I warned you,” he said.
The soldiers killed the father.
Then they killed the father’s family
Then they killed the father’s friends
Then they killed the father’s friends’ families
Uttering
‘’Blood for blood!’’
And the sky looked upon them, God looking down, the world watching.
And they all cried,
“Justice!”
“Justice is being served!”
***
Now blood lines the streets
Bodies under all the rubble
And sons wander
Looking upon their dead fathers
And they utter to themselves.
‘’Blood for blood’’
