BACKSTABBED

The gigantic acacia tree would testify
Were it not for savage ravages of rot
That erase feeble living things that die
After decades under sun’s missiles hot. 

And the birds that chirruped and flew 
About as he trudged over hill and bend 
Long went like all weak beings of flight,
And no more can lasting credence lend. 

If old baobab trunks had tongues that turn 
Methinks they would solid testimony avail,
Of how devoutly he toiled in dews and sun
And never refrained from heaven-sent toils. 

But since baobab trunks unspeaking are
And birds such fleeting breaths have they,
Can cold unfeeling stones their version say:
Tell how over them hopped he on his way? 

Though villainous eyes those labors saw,
Witnessing their tireless winds and turns;
None would ranks of vile ignominy break 
And end this betrayal that achingly burns.

And for want of witness this sobbing soul 
Perishes and dissolves like a soaking loaf
Amid bootless heavens’ amnesic lethargy,
As cruel decades to a rude century morph.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2026

Poem

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