We were born in sin.
Oblivious of the unseen
gimmicks of the puppeteer behind the scene;
Orchestrating a grand cantata,
probably for the amusement of the earthlings.
All we wanted was to live
Fuss, floss, and fill the earth-
All we wanted was mother nature’s embrace.
Suckle upon her emaciated breasts,
pull her chirped nipples,
seek a morsel of hope to nurture
our flailing and rumbling bellies of broken dreams-
Feel the last taste of our lost brothers,
Delink the last syllable of our broken record.
But, but …
All we got was an echo of our past,
lone sounds of our broken souls-
like faint steps trudging upon empty hallways
hounded by eerie shrieks of dying children-
drowning in silence, save the occasional shrill of the evening birds…
Should we afraid of what we have turned out to be?
Erik Mutei 