Monday, 11 September 2017

Tongues Fall Quiet




You do not make an eye contact with a thing,
A corpse.
Even though dead men don’t tell tales.

By a mad miracle,
Poverty assaults your ego,
And your heart and guts hung hooked.

Night comes black,
And breath deserts you,
Lifeless, a corpse, just a thing!

Tongues fall quiet,
When dead men finally meet.
But anyway, dead men don’t tell tales, they are all just the same.

The Ancestors Legacy

My sons, Keep vigil over your blood And every day: invoke your forefathers To give you a living guide. My sons, Tomorrow y...