March

The heat of the sun

has intensified more than ever

burning the sweat off the brow

of the people

Mother Nature has dried

leaving the air filthy and clogged

in fear of wasting

its precious fresh air just yet

Cockroaches, rodents, ants

have all retreated from the wild

underneath the shelter of homes

they can smell the bones of meat coming

soon.

The wild, wilder and wildest

of all animals shade themselves

from the openness of human eyes

for eyes have never held sharper

daggers.

Nature does not understand

therefore it cannot forsee

if the dance, drink and defiance

shall overcome diverse discrimination

Two clouds are cast

over a hut where

on one side- the darker cloud- burns to ashes

on the other- the white cloud- grows ripe fruits

The darker cloud is growing deviously

burning more and more of the fruits

taking the children, parents and vermin

to the ash

God the white cloud ties to fight of

his retired angel of the light- the angel of darkness

but to no avail, God is laughed at

by those he loves dearly

Mother Nature, Mother Earth

holds back her tears in effort

to wait to wash away the bloodshed

that shall seep into the soil

What only surprises me is that the cockroach

instead of us realises the path we may be willing

to take and disappoint once more

The Ides of March is not far but Brutus will not wait to betray

Caesar come the beginning of March;

We Brutus the people will betray once again our Africa