This duel is dedicated to all victims of the modern day slavery in Libya. Your voices are heard on this side.

1) The judges decision takes 70% of the judgement while well wishes and lovers of poetry votes takes 30%.

2) Upon no circumstance must any of the above mentioned poets vote.

3) The contestants are urged to invite friends to Vote for them using the comment section of this post. No rule exempts you from canvassing for votes.

5) Voting lasts for 18 hours from commencement of Duel.

6) Vote using I VOTE POEM 1 or I VOTE POEM 2

7) Results would be uploaded briefly after the closure of votes.

Good luck to the wordlords.. LET THE BATTLE BEGIN!




Like pupils on morning assembly, we stood
Like watchmen on medieval watchtowers, we stared
Like men whose teeth had been plucked away, we hid our words
tucked far deep in the safety of our bellies.
We stood and watched and kept mute
while men with milk skins took away our birthright.
What is even in a birthright?
For two plateful of porridge in form of mirrors,
and worthless trinkles;
we dashed our rights 
& in so doing, we dashed our future.
I saw Esau weep floods for us!
We discarded the lesson the past hammered in us;
never to burn the future in cooking today’s meal.
We sold ourselves,
yes, we sold ourselves.
Never think they forced us.
Our hands were cuffed by the cuffs we purchased.
Our minds enslaved us
Our body moved in sync to it like ballet dancers
& we gave ourselves away
To be slaves…
They only did what they saw us begin;
They only harvested from a tree we planted with bare hands
Our undoings were our doings.
Slaves in mind…
& who says slaves don’t need an owner…
So they came!



This song in my mouth is too hot! 
Burning like fiery furnace of a blazing hell. 
This water streaming down my eyes
Flows with the bitterness that eats my heart. 

Each time I remember that I’m just a skeleton, 
A living carcass with empty skul, 
Living in another man’s flesh, 
With another man’s idea ruling my kingdom, 
I break into sombre songs, for I’m a barren land 
That grows fruit for giant men to eat. 

Yes, I’m a slave, 
A roaming spirit that is being swayed by heavy winds of smart men.
My mouth is lucked, too heavy to utter a word of my own, 
My legs are feeble, too feeble to dance to my own tune

My tongue burns daily with my pastor’s words, 
Yes, he’s the miracle that we must worship, 
For healing dwells in his vineyard, 
He’s the magic that dominates my sense.

Yes, I’m a slave, living in another man’s world! 

I’m….  enslaved

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