Friday, April 07, 2017

Democratic Death by Abimbola Lagunju (Verses From Under the Sands)

We stand high and dry,
strumming strings of sweat
as we watch ourselves washed away again
in tropical tears of  winter floods.

We stand awash in dust of promises
as our values tumble down, free fall
under the weight of alien words, and
our disfigured remnants cower in cage of debts.

We stand frozen in the hot air
of another election cramp-pain,
holding our breaths in confused agony,
silent,…..waiting for the next con man in local suit and foreign tie.

We stand high and dry,
humming our own dirge,
praying for any release
from this slow alien death.

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