The Lone River Poem by Phillip Nine Mafunga

In the far-off lands of the east
Into the auburn colored morning skies, looms a black mountain peak
From it, tears of misery and hate flow relentlessly down slope
Cascades of grief eroding youthful cheeks of all beauty and splendour
All that the simpletons see is but adaptive optics of opulence
While the catfish swim in the tears of the hapless and of their sweat make merry

Meanwhile, a caravan of war and strife is by the nation's crossroads
No double-time pace will ever stop the ammo-belted change agents
For the lopsided slope will decant all the unwanted
It is in the way we perceive it that the waters freeze in mid slope
Where in narcotics, our young think they have freedom from self and pain
But there's always things to remember about us though the mornings be this hazy.
29 July 2022