I Look Through the River

In the realm of the mighty Chobe-Zambezi, Where once we thought blessings flowed freely, I used to look through the river, deep and dazzling, Its currents whispering stories untold, Mild and bold, the air's gentle caress, Looming over a navy sky, a silent witness. But now the river is a place of torment, Devouring my people like a beast of prey, One by one, claimed by its hungry depths, Beneath our days and nights, are sorrowing weeps, A thriving community silenced by the tide, Faces veiled by the watery shroud. I stand on the shore, uncertainty in my gaze, Tracing ripples with weary eyes, Searching for answers in the abyss, Stories swallowed by the black depth, I look through the water, praying for reprieve, Hoping for the river's thirst to be quenched, Yearning for the lives it has ended to be set free. In this water-logged tunnel of despair, Dreams and hopes lost in the murky flow, I wish for the Chobe to be still, For the river to fade into memory, I look through the river, longing for peace, For the souls it has taken to find release.