Oh, stricken daughters and sisters!
Bound by a shame that is not your own –
Your body, your clothes, your memory, and honour stained,
Is there a balm for your wounds?
Oh, discarded daughter and sister!
Clothed in sack and ashes of
your brother’s violence,
Is there a word of comfort I can say?
Oh, silenced daughter and sister!
Seized and thrown by own to be ravished,
Rendered dead and voiceless,
Is there a word of hope I can say?
Oh, abandoned daughter and sisters!
Abandoned by the silence of your own-
What violence you endure in isolated grief-
Is there a home for your heart to rest?
Oh, forsaken daughters and sisters!
Forever lost in the crimes of wars,
Dignity decayed before death came,
Is there a scribe for your sorrows?
Oh, wounded daughters and sisters!
Mothers of sons, daughters of fathers, sisters of brothers,
Have you not borne the scorn for what was taken from you?
How do I refresh your soul?
Oh, all you daughters and sisters!
Born in a world of skewed horror to your kind,
And while violence ceases not to rake your bodies,
There is still the One who weeps ceaselessly.