Monday, February 1, 2016




Here I am, once again talking to myself
Perception at its peak and I've got to write it down..
About the day fear spread throughout the Seychelles Island
And the pain that was planted in our heart,
still remain within silence tears of our soul…

During the night they work in groups
Grenade and guns to hell they spook
Below the tree they drink and smoke
Waiting yet for someone to break the curfew.

And in the room of my nightmares I saw
How they use morphine to silence their prey
Through the panic curtain I peep
As they carried the helpless body into the truck..

People keep on going missing
Yet no one dare to speak
As silence forever hold their tongues
Or their names will join the killer's list..

People keep on praying
To the God in heaven’s above
For the return of justice and peace
So we may once again live in harmony..

For the wind of change we wait
And in God we pledge for deliverance
Giving up is not an option
For our motherland is worth the call…


My noble thoughts,

I penned with sincerity.

It is straightforward statements,
coming straight from convictions.

Stories of intestinal fortitude,
that may perhaps kill me..

But no one has the ability;
to arrest or murder the idea of freedom.

Freedom are present in the people’s blood,
and it cannot be kept sleeping forever…

I have in the past, penned a few ‘vents’
and made few enemies..

But I have been also applauded by many,
for well written testimonial in a world of silence…

Sadly those that sells their freedom,
for security blanket will end up in misery…

I will continue triggered memories,
until I become a memory myself…

Let's persist in rattling the cage of oppressors
till they drop or set us free..

In the valley of despair ask God to hold our hands,
but never bow to devilish hearts of oppressors..

I refuse to budge from the truth,
so help me God…


Memories sometimes, strolls
down my face like a stream,
a runnel of mixed emotions
both sad and joy,
in which I smile and cry
For I am forever Seychelles.

In my dreams, I heard
my country calling from afar
O God, how I miss this place,
my heart is like a suitcase,
swollen with memories of
both the good and the bad.
The bitter sweet of memories

My passport remains
forever Seychelles
the country where I was born,
and among all these memories
detaches an image of
white sandy beaches
crystal blue waters,
greenish mountains, yet
and sadly so much chaos
by power hungry cowards.

Memories crushing against
my heart and soul
like waves upon a shore,
families and friends some
no longer with us, but
as long as my heart goes on
memories live on,
and so does hope
for freedom and justice
may God save the Seychelles!

Cecile.M.M Port-Louis

1 comment :

  1. ahhhhh Cecile... absolutely wonderful poetry... Congratulations to you