Two rivers

      

I

Let me not laugh nor cry;

over the weight that weighs me bow.

Let my lament trigger not your tears,

tears that might manifest intense fears.

I pour out my heart,

not so mighty to coarse a must listen-

but listen anyway,

for I fancy ears and voices that gives way.

II

personally, I've cried over the known and unknown.

A cry that oft° beckons a resounding question:

Why do I cry?

Am I too fortunate for fate's unfortunate fortune?

Why should I cut my right arm,

to appease the left that leaves me imbalanced?

Should I keep sobbing,

or wipe the tears, a mid the oozing blood,

and smile to the world?

III

Listen! I've known these tears;

tears that sparks your fears,

of living in an unfair territory-

this territory that's predatory.

I'm a master of these tears,

I cry when itchy are my eyes,

for fortune at my arms often dies.

IV

If I pen a tear-jerker, on the two rivers,

hold back not your tears-

for a haemorrhage ain't shy of gazes,

of spectators who laugh off your pain.

I pen on these two rivers,

that flows without a reverse:

Subtly antagonised,

determined for an unknown destination.

©Bunguswa Brian.™