At this omega of ill-fetted volitions
where the concrete-embeded poster reads "EXIT"
you watch with amusement the logical end
of ideological perversion
bemused by the grunts of kings vommitted by history
a history of misery
In this, my date with fate
as an inspired spectator i ignore the values a society disguise itself in
and read the writings on the wall
about disjointed limps and fractured souls
about abused women and misused slogans
about useless ballots and useful bullets
about persecuted students and deffered freedom
about the death of peace
and as such our long awaited kiss
on the lips of the King's corpse.
By the concrete poster
the wretched stands awestruck
waving their broken limps,
thus penning the last line in this history of what never happened.
the writing is on the wall
"mene mene tekela upasini"
umambo hwako hwapera
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