The silence was there
And she held it higher
And we all watched the space
To know, and face

Knowing well that one day
that she would beak the muzzle and say
And this entwines in my mind
Like a whirlwind in the dusty sand

And it was so heartening
That there is this behind, beckoning
And the silence is there haunting
And yet I have to keep counting

Till she drops the shield and spear
And she breaks, she my dear


Other poems of K SSEKAJJA (38)

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