Start Of The Farewell Poem by Dagimawi Tujuba

Run through the dark avenue, there as I see you, your tommorow cries
Smile as the lavender blush, as the odour vanish, the funny bug it lies
And now the moon grins, almost humane, among the pale clouds
Go ahead, grope for the exhausted fun, the statue of your loss, you'll conquer nothing but a stale applause
A plausible night of mid September,
A strange neighbourhood at zero hour,
I watched as you ramble in your hazy world that you made me wonder
I wondered if you've ever noticed your scars bleed as you pushed more harder
And I wondered if you've been vacant all along and yet so forth that outrageous you was no wonder
And I hate it
And I did not
Hence, not a step I take accounts the officious plays you emit
And not a word I say mends your lunatic mansion
Neither your oblivion, nor my false oration
Hence, these are eras of innovation
Seasons of less ordeal
Times of glancing at the jumbled farewell.