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Thursday, 17 April 2014

They will mourn


In a black suit, wearing corpse-scented cologne
Dancing music of the dead, evil tunes, haunted tones
Listening to the sound of the cursed trombone
  
This place is a cold heart zone
No one gives a damn, I’m on my own
Walking in foggy woods, all but alone

In my pockets and on the piled stones
I look everywhere, look for the phone
How will I reach them? How will I call home?
How will I tell them that I will soon be gone?

To me the other side has been shown
Mysterious place, the world unknown
The side with the ones who had passed on

To the jaws of death I will be thrown
It will chew my soul and gnaw my bones
Friends and family will mourn
In grief they will groan
Mournful bawls they will try to control
But tears of anguish  will play its’ role
Their broken hearts, I wont be there to console
Their heads, they will cover with black shawls
On their knees, they will pray for my soul

-Edwin Onyango

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