At the fall of summer,
Cold and weary-- in our olden selves,
The cold benches of Mukuyuni;
And caged voices of knowledge seekers:
At our patience gnawed.
Unwavered; what still held us--
Intertwined and inseparable:
The hope that we shall live...
Uneasy are these extreme peripheries of the Sahara!
You contracted boredom thus.
Perhaps to cheer up you craved,
So I, a masquerade:
From a dunghole emerged...
I sang; you danced.
Maybe my tune you adored;
Maybe your soul I tickled.
So endearing was it,
Whilst it lived...
But alas, daylight crawled in!
Sooner before I could retire...
Now about I hover, and wander,
A masked spirit.
Lost in thoughts.
#homageToMyMuse!
Wafula p'Khisa.
Lirango Lienjofu
(Thigh of the Elephant).
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