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Elegy Written In A Desert Creek

Can’t you feel?
How you gnaw my tongue so hard, yet pledge
To heal this wound thereof
You scratched the silver panel off my skin
Yet promise to restore
A supple, flaming fur
Still, you scorn this waning, failing coat
And left folks to spatter foul on my feeble shoulder

Can’t you see?
How you threw me into an isle of fools
Who climb lofty mountains in dark nights
I mean those folks who spew on the rivers
For me to drink, and my brothers also
Only to be plagued with soul-tearing infirmities
And yet find our way into dead sanatoriums
Hijacked by an army decked in fuming facade

Can’t you hear?
That Niger-Delta has developed grave insomnia
Not because of the fumes emanating from my generator
Nor the chair my brothers throw at each other daily
In our highly-esteemed chambers
But that my brothers are fleeing, like troubled bees
Into clouds unknown
Leaving million eyes in their pool of tears

Now are we tired to see a tireless, scorching sun
Who refuse to bid farewell to the quiet hiss of eve

poem by Gilbert Alasa
Added by Poetry Lover
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