My blood sings, my blood weeps!
For my countenance has fallen.
A song no one can interpret,
For if I hear, and then I am dead.
My blood cries vengeance and justice,
Who to, I care not?
For if I care, then I’m dead
It cries for help in the brutal living world!
My blood weeps, so I’m alive,
Dead~it cries for freedom and truth,
In an imperfect world doomed to bondage and betray,
Who to, I even know not?
My voice was heard.
There shall be visitation and redemption.
So my punishment shall not be more than I can bear.
For sins were already at my door.
![MY BLOOD WEEPS by Joseph Omojuwa](https://i0.wp.com/poetry.wrr.ng/wp-content/uploads/2016/06/MY-BLOOD-WEEPS-by-Joseph-Omojuwa.jpg?resize=750%2C415)