Alas, the Rwandan genocide did befall,
In the days of April, seven to July, fifteen,
In the year of our Lord, one thousand nine hundred ninety-four,
When civil war did rage and hearts with hatred fill.

Of Tutsi blood, a minority did spill,
As armed militias, of Hutu men, did take,
Their lives with malice and with cruel skill.
The estimates do say, five hundred thousand did break.

In nineteen ninety, did the RPF invade,
From their base in Uganda, to Rwanda's northern shore,
And war did rage for three long years, ne'er swayed,
Till peace accords were made, and signed once more.

But peace did not endure, for Habyarimana,
The Hutu president, did fall, by assassin's hand,
And with his passing, did the genocide begin,
As Tutsi leaders fell, by the score, on every land.

The world did watch in horror, but did naught,
For naught did intervene, with force to bring an end,
To the spilling of blood, in villages and towns, wrought,
By neighbors, friends, and fellow men.

In churches and schools, they did seek and find,
Their victims, hiding, with machete and with gun,
And women did suffer, with rape of every kind,
As 250,000 to 500,000, were undone.

But RPF did resume the war, with all its might,
And captured all the land, and put an end,
To genocide, and sent the killers to their flight,
To Zaire, now the Congo, where they did descend.

The aftermath did bring, the First Congo War,
With 200,000 lives, by Rwandan hands, lost,
And today, in Rwanda, do they mourn, once more,
With public holidays, and laws, at what cost.

And though the constitution, doth say, a million perished,
The truth is likely less, with naught but grief to show.
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