Mr. Africa Poetry Lounge!

The storm

It did heat from the core
till the tides became soar.
Then the vessel could no longer contend
so did the storm commence.

They had all pretended
but the pretence all depended
on the daily condition of lies
which became to the flesh, nails.

In Africa, it commenced from the North.
Power monger departed with haste.
Bloody masses took over the street
as the storm came along with heat.

The storm blew in the Muslim world
To change the "royal democracy" of old.
Freedom, freedom, cried the oppressed
as they matched along too obsessed.

Then you could here the gun fire.
Corpses, the stakes where high.
They shed the blood of many
as the fight of change tarried

In the Centre of Africa was another.
The storm was fierce like the monster.
Demo-dictate denied defeat.
The powerful storm still took the lead.

As fast as ever it rushed over,
restoring democracy like a Dover.
But the fear of the storm lingered
as Demo-dictates all around shivered.

The change shall be gradual
As the storm retreats to observe
Then democracy shall prevail
over the power of Dictatorship.

Written by Gukaa Williet


Mr. Africa Poetry Lounge