The Stampede Of Fury Poem by Thabani Khumalo

What is this about?
Near my whispered a strong intuitive doubt
Yet still I whistled through a morsel of gourds
But the wind had tinged wise doubt.

At a market corner where the aliens buy
Things that take them spiritually closer to home
Where they once stayed and escaped the effects of drought
And yet the tension was rising in the tinge of the voices in the air.

By the rise of rage and then came about
A crowd, and an amuck king had again donned his crown of glum
And decreed in himself to stampede the market place
And what once was a friend was now an arson flame.

The Arthelons yard was only a mile away
And there I cried the tears to mourn down my chin
Because I looked in there and I saw a mass-grave
Where masses of friends had been laid below.