Posted by: Ron DuBour | January 20, 2015

WHEN I DIE~by Kilel Rama




Whether in this moment or in that distant future
A time will come flying on the wings of nature
Carrying the trumpets whilst singing elegies
Elegies of a lost sun, midst eerie self in effigies
As the owls stand on my casket in somber ambiance
The white roses of the plains will sprout in silence
Surely, the lambs of poor peasants will bleat in forlorn
Their voices will echo on southern valley where I was born
I moan the paths I used- travelers in their desolate
For who will dare wear my shoes or walk in this fate?
Let your tears be like the water of Molo River
Upon its water, I washed my soul to attain eternity forever
Never praise me beyond the truth for my soul will haunt you
And must you honor me then be swift while I breathe
For what is glory when I am chained in labyrinth of death?
By Kilel Rama

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