Abegunde Sunday
These zephyrs of thoughts my muse blows
as poesy flows, to seas of souls,
to splash fluids of reminiscence
on fiery hearts and fighting hands.
Gone black heroes had worked for peace
and had gone through tough odysseys,
to bring black soil tranquillity
and entombed corpse of enmity.
Won’t disunity now exhume
benumbed enmity from that tomb
and make dispute breastfeed zombies
of cacophonies as babies?
Before these zombies were revived,
unity in black’s jungle thrived.
Tiger treats bear’s cub as its own –
no gore of xeno in our home.
What discord’s zombies make us suck
which bewitches us off peace talk,
are free cans of dispute liquor;
African Union floors such flaw.
Black titans of Africa’s breast,
in the North, South, East and West,
suckle Africa’s oneness milk;
so, no blood stains peace’s bib of silk.
There are free can-o-pies of love
where Africans can hold peace pacts;
rebury discords and resolve
differences, to heal bleeding hearts.
Source: Enigmatic Global Concept
Editor’s note: Originally published as part of the 31 Days of Poetry series on VicAdex.com on 11 September 2016.
Editor’s note: Originally published as part of the 31 Days of Poetry series on VicAdex.com on 11 September 2016.