Dirge For Mandela Poem by olumide emmanuel

The soul departs, the body is dreary
As she comforts him from life's weary
A blind has no fortune of his
Except a help to grant his bliss
Many a warrior has in battle slept
To awake in world of death bereft
Many dirges in sweeping lines have rung
But all were mortal grieving song

No song or dirge can thy transit take
Nor can my rhyme restore thee awake
O, Mandela, Man of the people,
Wading thru tides bigotry cripple!
Thy passage, world dealt mortal blow
No death so shaken mortal has known

Rolihlahla, who stared tyrant death in face
To stall racism of my colour and race
I'm obliged to mourn thee everlasting
O Mandela, thy death is stinging!

Thy departure the world turns drab
Thy death shock they cannot grab
For without self gain you pulled the branch
Of racism, apartheid on thy ranch
No other has this feat attained
In a world in which calamity-contained

Nelson sleeps but to be greatly missed
A cue to the world who death cannot resist
Thy death shall be our occupation
And victory of black discrimination

E'en when my verse is published in classic mag
My occupation, shall I still thy death nag?
:
So, this is to the world to hear,
Nelson dies, but forever's here.