In this strange land where I have no place, I found a bench on a park: my solace, my spot, my whereabouts and my piece of green. Here nothing touches.
Friday, 25 December 2015
Posted with Blogsy
Sunday, 13 December 2015
At Night
Armed Soldiers swarm the garden
Scorching everything in its path
Our home infested
Bodies crawling, wailing
Wretched hatchlings of a better time
A red tide covers the floor
The neighbours trembling
No more than cockroaches
Scrambled in crevices
Torn between salvation and succour
Nobody breathed for an eternity and a half
Infernal nights
Bedevilled the country
Only fear and despair
Hovering in the sky
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