A House So Spent

Slowly, slowly,
Nightly shadows steal across the day
Slowly, slowly,
The shadows retreat for the approach of day.
But with unequal haste,
Does the hearts of men change their state;
And what once radiated love
Does brotherly coexistence shove.

Intolerance walks the lands
I see its imprints in the sands
What then is left?
What remains of a brother’s right?
Who is right;
They who oppressed,
Or them who are suppressed?
They who looted
Or them who are looted?

This farmhouse lies desolate
The rafters alone remain in a fair state
All occupants talk of repairs
But the four-legged ones still huddle together in sorry pairs
The winged fellows flock to the rafters,
Mocking their sorry comrades now every after
But while up they lay,
Their eggs they do lay
And down they come crashing
Whilst the winged creature looks on, ashen
But that is all there is,
For as long as this desolate house is;
Comfort or relief shall none breath
Serpentine predators shall this premises forever breach
And when moons and seasons are spent
What shall remain of this place so spent?

© Ikenna Chinedu Okeh
Say NO to the looting of foreigners’ shops in Pretoria, South Africa.



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