A voice from the remote dark
Adookorn Auaduma@auadumaadookorn150359
5 days ago
at the carrefour of living
we lie in the arms of the blind,
grope on thorn-furnished path
where our tomb lie
in wait from the days of birth
we crawl through sullen realities
crafted a shadow on sand of credence
at the crossroads
we sough, the jingle of crash coins
assume, the voice of the dead
will spur wind of change,
taunt our greed-blind siblings
busy stocking bloody lucre
from the spoils of our birthright
to curry favour with despotic wiz -
looters of our heirloom
but eery wind sang to my
longing ears
"do not linger on twilight
paths at night fall
from north, swift marauding cheetahs
wait for signal with neo-rifle
of mass destruction
to delete beings that loiter
after grazing hours "
i stooped on the kneel of my fears
born of foolhardy penance,
whisper the presage of extinction
as the wind continued,
"the left wing will bear
frightening mantle of power
with severe rage
worse than those exhibited
by the exit tarquin
to dwarf the weight
of the passing sovereign
then i asked,
"what will befall us at last
when nomadic marauders
take over our homes
it replied,
"do not leave your homes
vie for autonomous states having
weak centre
till the last arrow is spent!
