The Voice Of The Drum Poem by James Mallum

Heartbeat of a raging lion
The voice of a beating drum
Like a clay pot covered in iron
Such, his dueler's rump
Cautious is the hyena
Lurking somewhere in a corner
Spectacles in this arena
He waits and holds his laughter
The prey is another victim
A porcupine in its solipsism

The common citizen
Punished for no reason
For long did grovel and pray
Father they cry
With sullen eyes their voice away
And then they ask why
Why does the jungle sway
From the left to the right
Why do the trees wait
Till the breeze is right

But that is the totality of the past
With their fate utterly politicized
Where are the renegades
No longer at home
To the farm engaged
With cutlass and hoe
Now they dance
To the left to the right
Holding hands
For there is a harvest tonight