The Deceased (A Tribute To Ishmael Chafukira) Poem by Ananiya Alick Ponje

Whisked in a gleaming box
Of old memories forced to be rekindled
Within hesitant hearts of kids
Wondering when the fallen pillar will stand again;
Of left bones oozing red waters of fear and hopelessness
Just because the pillar has returned in a closed luminous box
Burned already by the ever-shinning sun
Wilting saplings seeking a raindropp are scared
Because the evergreen forest master has given in to the cruel sun
Whose heat has pierced to the core snatching the hidden treasure
Of assurance to oaks releasing cruel gum for gluing together
Broken leaves that have disappeared beneath the ground.
The gravestone is wishing the remnants the best
In their pursuant for felling more oaks
For gluing their own broken hopes.
Could it be another journey to the past?
We are left to know.
For life alone has made all the changes
And death has just accomplished them.