Solomon Ochwo-Oburu Poet Elegy

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

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James Horn June 2, 2017 at 6:06 AM Solomon, Noticed this is your first poem. You should use this to write a series of poems from. In you want to confide; Always remember the day they died; All of my sadness I tried to hide; Does still remain so deep inside. Jim Horn

Solomon Ochwo-Oburu November 14, 2016 at 7:51 AM This poem is dedicated to the women in South Sudan who have been suffering inhuman treatment by armed persons who are expected to secure them.