Drooping Madia
Norman Mwale [The PenPusher]
And birds digress with their songs,
They depart from the music
We oft sing that lacks musical
Quality,
The sun shut its radiant eye,
It says we already glow with anger
And reproaches us, why not like
The genius Madia that opens in the
Evening,
The moon shies away; withdraws,
Painting this moonless night in
Your face
And the galaxy blames me and you
And sinks in heaven’s womb,
My path to you occluded by the cracks
Between,
Angels no more settle and dance
To those sopranos of yours
That l usually fuse with my basso,
They are afraid of this insect stinger;
The biting silence between!
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