No one ever wants you to visit
even to talk about you
your so inhuman
every one calls you his name
i hear in Luganda they call you walumbe
in kiswahili they call you kifo
and in french la mort
you come in a silent way
and leave no footprints behind
but only grief in our veins
you take laughters of our beautiful people
you take them with no departure echo
and hide them in the styx
where we'll never hear from them
you've claimed lives of innocent children
you've separated loved ones
even the great men have left us
what do we owe you
that makes you behave this way
would you leave us
if we gave you gold and diamonds?
Every time you pass by
you leave mothers and children mourning
and eyes of men glued to the sky
thinking on how they will also
leave suddenly and
leave with out saying goodbye
to their children and wives
Oh walumbe! kifo! la mort!
why don't you have mercy
and stop making us pass
Through this painful journey.
Indeed, death is a bad reaper that plucks ripe and unripe fruits. A good personification of death, well articulated and insightfully penned in poetic diction with conviction. Definitely a lovely poem to share on the site. Thanks for sharing Sam. Please read my poem MANDELA - THE IMMORTAL ICON.
MR DEATH personified. very interestiing portrayal already in your first poem. wonderful. you have great future. you are gifted with imagination. thank you dear Poet. tony
not bad at all, Asiimwe, your first poem* at PoemHunter! WELCOME and keep on writing stay blessed ___ * but you should pay some more attention to grammar.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A sublime start with a nice poem, Asiimwe. You may like to read my poem, Love And Lust. Thank you.