DELIGHT THE VICTIM
Passion has restorative power
Like cold water
To a tasty soul
Taking out summer
In the eyes;
To love invisible tears;
Tears of happiness.
Let us remove pessimism
From the mind of the sufferer
Oh! This pestilence
Faster than the Night – jar
Sadness and rejection,
Loss of hope,
Conquered by the stigma
Doused with pains,
Painful than burning iron
Call, hold, kiss and make belong
The vision of death is erased.
A suffused face of delight
Like a just crowned king
The teeth lightens … the brow rejoices
Do not draw their tears with buckets
A friend in need, is a friend indeed.
COLD HANDS
We have come a long way
Passing through the adventures of life
Our future on our lips
Knowledge in our minds
Strength in our hands
Our hands on our knees
More of us
Less of it
Our destiny in their hands
Idleness is a prestige
We are tough soldiers in civilian attire.
Our regalia with fumes of the defeated
Yet we fought no war
Our hands are cold
Our song passes through abrupt modulation
Pitch after pitch,
Octave after octave
But we are stopped by the double-bar
Whose twin is frustration
O’ father land!
Where is labour?
Our hands are cold.
We pledge to serve with all our strength
But the trade mark is “no vacancy”
The stench of idleness is much
Yet, there are no lotus to eat
We dance the song we sing
We dance for nothing
Our hands are cold.
