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Rave At the Gate
Rave at the gate, With chant and shout!
Make God mind how large the turnout
When his hand, so grand and devout,
squashes us like candles snuffed out.
Bid him not drop any more like flies.
Why must we not be more than loud,
In crying our souls ‘til hearts are drought?
All my dead with soul and without
Rave at the gate!
Demand rest of our souls unbowed
Unafraid from God and all proud
Today, the dead must speak for crowds
In memorials veiled in dark clouds.
Revolt for life; and all about
—Rave at the gate!
Copyright ©
Bantu West
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