His stride covered years of ‘impossibility’ 
with veils greatness 
as his footprints birthed 
a procession of protégés 
prostrated beneath statues 
that epitomized the will 
of his ambitions. 

Tales of a better future 
were scrolls etched on his lifelines 
when he recited a past fallacy 
which now acts as the sleeves 
that we have written our constitution on 
from the shadows of his wrinkled heart.

His words were hymns for the aggravated 
and ritual chants for ripe fetuses.
Out of his soul we mold blankets for newborns 
and carve catafalques to carry 
our coffins back into the future 
that haunts us…


© Bulumko Nyamezele

day 4 | 18 August 2011