FOREVER IN A DREAM LAND

FOREVER IN A DREAM LAND

                        

           

He was at his mother's Bossom

Joyfully wrestling in his mother's arm

When the curtain of night fell she told heroic tale

He wish to be a hero like a beluga whale

Passion to die for his nation was indebted into his soul

His mind became joyous at the sound of war

His uniform is his courage

His gun is his vindication

If I go and does not return let the birds chirp for my name

For my passion is fulfilled

What do we seek, that we see?

We rise at the wailing of trumpet

My soul survived many facet of weathers

The guerrillas were being played by the crocodiles

Grave is our motherland, for the country I died for monument is my reward

I asked for strength to become strong as dung beetles

To do and achieve better things like the birds but I was made weak as a pauper

I seek for power and riches

But poverty makes my home a nirvana

What do I seek, that I see?

I asked for things to enjoy but war

And I became a beachcomber

Oh mother! My heart torn asunder

My burning passion evaporate

I run in between my tail

Oh mother! Where is thy face?

I am drowning in a sea of grief

As I could hear the mournful tone of death

Though death dines daily at my table

My mind weary at the call of death

As my shadow walks behind so also death

No matter where i run and hide, it's a step behind

Guerilla's parent are singing and dancing

For their dead children at God's acre

I wish to be at the upper echelon

To ingrain my name in the mind of the people

So that when I passed on

My name will be one time remembered

The politicians are the maker of our world

He lives disproportionate to the service he renders

Man at war was giving stipend

Medal as reward, no place to put his nest

At war the melodious song of explosions rung in my ears, tinkling my heart

When will our condition change

I can feel the stench of failure closing in

What can we do with our rusty guns

What can we do when technology is the basis of the world

We can't hold a candle against our enemy

Our enemy is the technology carrier

My rusty weapon is my asunder 

My country is getting poorer 

My country is where the Poor's are well equipped with poverty

I am weary at the call of death

I will be at the upper echelon so that my name will be one time remembered, then I will drown peacefully at the call of death

What can we do for the past heroes?

What can we do to the long lost soul in war?

What can we do for the legionary who are alive to tell the tale?

Those at war, what was their possessions?

What do they deserve

At least give him adulation, at the end of his days. A live broadcast of the dead guerrillas

To honour them as a heroes of our prime

Each time in war, death is sweet to us

Merrily merrily we dine daily with death

Bath daily at the red sea, adorned with red garment

Brothers, there xome to our motherland

Our suffering ended with the day as we match 

In glory in to our motherland

No paradise like my motherland

As we breath the long, long night away

In statute like repose

I leave without regret

Able to defend my country is abundant

Even if no one remember me, awake or asleep

My mind is as set like hills

With my rusty weapon I bask in glory

At the end forever in a dream land

By: Phelix Boshe

EMAIL: phelixboshe@gmail.com

This is my first poem.