Hoping fervently that they would be honest and trustworthy. Live their lives to the fullest and to the best of their ability. As talks of war begin a ...ong comes to mind, my eyes fill with tears… Little child, dry your crying eyes How can I explain the fear you feel inside? Cause you were born into this evil world Where man is killing man And no one knows just why. What we have become Just look what we have done, All that we have destroyed You must build again When the children cry Let them know. Screw him up for thinking this of me way a million multifold times!I am waiting for him in the V.I.P lounge. I don't even think that he is coming. Well, why did I even bother to bring myself here in the first place? Maybe he just wants to prove and tell how obedient and reliable I would be to his commands and requests. Am I his slave here? While I am busy pinching my eyes in anger and frowning recklessly, the door steadily swings open and there he appears before my eyes, holding a bunch of. The more I learned about the Islamic faith, the more fascinated I became. You see, in the Haitian church where I was raised, I always found it odd that God was considered an old white man in the sky while the Devil was a black guy with horns, a furry body and cloven hooves. What the hell? Good is considered white and black is considered evil. As a black man, that stung me to the depths of my soul. Christianity wasn’t for me. My fellow Haitians, sons and daughters of Africans who were the first. The woman who watched, her hands stroking at the ball like someone might their pet, encouraging it with soothing words, her eyes of grey open wide as the opportunity she had waited for presented itself and she watched, knowing what was to come, her smile not quite reaching her eyes. Some called her enchantress, others witch, her proper name was Lady Calias and she had waited a lifetime to settle a score. Now, it would be her time. There were three of them, the birds as black as night, the crows.