If we could sit down for one Christmas dinner,
together,
after all the years
had converged and split our hearts
into yesterday,
if we could gather around the table,
sit down before we lose our balance,
drunk with the wine of forgiveness
after all the tears have been wept
and still be blown away by the constant wind,
the angry sea calming, the moon smiling
jagged cuts on our faces,
the bleeding
from the inside out stopped with the
sweet fullness of time,

Bravo Foxtrot Juliet down, over!
Deafening silence struck
Realities eclipsed in the actual
The nation mourn in numbness

Locked up emotions
Gripped the people
With induced insanity
Fear fuelled the outrage
Tears mingled with blood

Rain washed down the sacrifices
Into the womb of the earth
On the farmland of Tunga Madaki
As one drinks water after a meal

Charred remains of corpses
Headless bodies and limbs
Scattered across the savannah
Moments before the windshield
Were healthy humans

She can take you to nirvana
She can make a life worth living
She can show you all the pleasures
But she’s taking and not giving
For she’ll wake you in the morning
Rend the flesh from off the bone
She will tear your heart to pieces
She will leave you all alone
Then regaining all your senses
In the morning light you shiver
As you wade into the waters
Of some cold and icy river
And the current takes you down
And your drowning in you sorrow
But you fight to reach the surface

Black of yew, birds hide,
where poisonous berries, red,
drop on grey graves.

Silent stones, moss draped,
pale green and bleached by time.
The air aware, a latent air, expectant,
nothing stirs.

Below our bones, they sleep,
they cannot weep.
Souls haunt them yet,
expressed in quiet unspoken melody,
nature's own sweet breath.

Of dreams, regrets,
perhaps of happiness,
they weave new life
into the myths of man.