O the rock!
On the beggared habitation
Where our destinies drift like smoke
Journey in empty promises
Sceptre after sceptre
Do not query those stolen from independence
Where lies their fate
Their destination is known
Bones made dead from amalgamation
Pavements along the grave
Where music strangely sung
Played by fugitives
Soar in soured governance
No respite
No soothing
Nothing can be done
To change the tide of the sea
The ship has sailed beyond oblivion
Comments
Hello Teddy,
Hello Teddy,
Thank you for your appreciation of my poem. In this journey of life, we are all migrants. While some are fortunate to be in working environments and countries, some others like me, as expressed in the poem, are most unfortunate, this the hopelessness.
Thanks again for the wonderful critique!
You have said it all!
You have said it all!
Thank you.