That Day I Died

That day I died He tore open his chest Removed his heart, and pasted that of a lion With precision, landed on me But the world looked on That day I died I ran to the mosque Allah was not there I tiptoed to the church Christ was not on the Cross To the Grotto I hurried Virgin Mary was missing I galloped to ancestral shrine The Living Dead were on recess But the world looked on That day I died He grabbed my calabashes and drank all the milk While licking me crazily With his hollowed horn in the bushes and hills of Juba But the world looked on That day I died On the ground he held me Like a submissive goat being converted into soup With ferocity of a lunatic He tore open my granary of life Pelting off like flu the fruit Yet the world looked on That day I died