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Cursed ones

We are an image of a god that
has been smeared and battered with mud
We are the fallen,
Descended from grace
to be kept in a place of turmoil

anyị ahọrọghị ụzọ a,
akara aka dugara anyị

The gods played a prank on us,
They gave us a beautiful lie called Life
Our lives are a puzzle
We try to unravel each day

anyị ahọrọghị ụzọ a,
akara aka dugara anyị

We are jinxed!
The rays of hope is dimmed
With our sufferings,
We can only bask in agony each day

anyị ahọrọghị ụzọ a,
akara aka dugara anyị
©zanieike

Review Request (Intensity): 
I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
Review Request (Direction): 
What did you think of my title?
How was my language use?
What did you think of the rhythm or pattern or pacing?
How does this theme appeal to you?
How was the beginning/ending of the poem?
Is the internal logic consistent?
Last few words: 
anyị ahọrọghị ụzọ a, akara aka dugara anyị in Igbo language means ( we didn't choose this path, fate led us)
Editing stage: 

Comments

I see that no one has bothered to comment on this piece even after seven days. I find that unhelpful and indeed suffer from the same lack of commentary. So here goes.
I found the interjections in the Ibo language odd and not really necessary. Why not have these in English or at least have an immediate translation instead of a not-very-obvious footnote?

I very much liked the phrase "bask in agony". Well done, squire.

Edna
Poetess to the Stars

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