After giving me beautiful children
You became so ugly I couldnt stare any more
I used to have my way with you but not any more
I became a failure at the one thing
The one thing my group fare profusely at
And a laughing stock
Suddenly the voice of my fathers mattered
Can I not sample other cooking pots now?
Can I not dip into the soothsayers concocted pot?
I stand where all paths meet
Yeah at the top of the hill
Where all views gather by force and choice?
The voice bliss departed marrying peace
And I alone warrior returning from unfought battle
My machette bent at the head.
No longer desirable is your milk
The meat has gone tastless
And the hearth cold ...
No comments:
Post a Comment