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Sun, April 3, 2016 0:09 AM

| 27/05/2010 |

Colonial Curses

Foxes flatter you, your heads
Your poets will lose their moons
And themselves misguided to quicksand find
Your vultures off our skin pulled
Our virgin ancestry skies intact, natural, lovely anew

When our days arise, sunrise tradition
I dream you dead, in suffocated bad luck
You alone like forsaken mercury enraged
Your discarding dreams unfold
Kernels of your hope mourning you fading

When our eyes arise, sundown yours
Vengeance shall have your favorite wits trashed to ash
Under ours your powers shall sink
Your civilization intoxicated spared none
Until your bones are sadder than all your glories

Blessed hands shall devour your pledges
Your refuge plagued
I see the passage I see where you bend
Your combat’s Achilles weakness
Until you let go of your polluted reign

Your market stones in poverty quicklime be drowned
As we wet your sweat with your bloods
Break your eyes from its dear sleep
The racial winds chase your nights’ sins
Continue in agony linger your households