Plundered Dreams

This is no chitchat

Of bush romance.

This is no idle talk

Of women in well.

This is no gossip

Inside a barber shop.

Words that can make or break nations

These words are,

Emotions that can draw blood

From the skulls of killed soldiers

These emotions are,

Grief that can explode

Hearts of the oppressed

These grieves are.

This is no Bush-Romance-Chit-Chat

An Elegy it is of borrowed dreams

Coarse conscience

Mutilated mien

Choreographed calmness

Stale stance

This is not an idle talk

A commentary it is of broken pieces

riddled roses

Flaring flames

Sickening sirens

These words

Are the buried bodies of plundered dreams

Mocking their epitaphs.

C) Lorot Salem 2011