Tattered leaves of brown decay
Your cry is the dreary sound of dismay
The harmattan has drowned your very life
But please die no… no, not now!
Live on with your brownish tint
That tomorrow, your emerald tinge of an after-death sprout
Might feed generations yet unborn. ***
Spirit unfettered … so wretched… much untendered
Your grief has not gone uncaptured
The empty womb that holds you
Is indeed flooded with abortive hope
And your tomorrow is but a sound of sorrow
But please die not
For you hold the light to the darkness of tomorrow
So please let not death kill you! ***
Lonely child of sorrow…
Your look tells me of the emptiness that fills your tummy
Yes…. Of the countless moments that have held you in despair
And in desperate want of a rejuvenating sip of mellow waters
Lonely child of sorrow… let not death kill you!
Live on and be the father of a better-nurtured generation.