The Quiet Of Gun Sound Poem by Phillip Nine Mafunga

Peering down the drone view of the blue sea bed
Like a sneak purview of a bloody snitch
With bodies strewn all over the valley floor of confusion
COVID-19 the hidden sniper somewhere in the dark back alleys of science
In one shot death cascades through scores of unprepared souls
Our intelligence dared and bamboozled, who will tell us what all this is?

Death smell sifts through the airways of usual opulence
The aged and immune challenged thrown on the firing line as decoys
The innocent made to scurry into dark holes of hunger and uncertainty
Those who live in high towers are running back to their history for safety
Where are the wise of this world or are they running also?
The sniper is ruthlessly sparing not the caregiver and the healer alike

We will survive; the human race will keep on bouncing back
We Africans have refused to be guinea pigs no more
As a race, we have been here before unknowingly
We refuse to pay the Bill at the Gate of disgrace again
And we rebel because we are a lot wiser today
Blackman will survive and rise from the evils of the times.

PHILLIP NINE MAFUNGA
12 APRIL 2020