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Metaphor of My Wasteland Metaphor of My Wasteland
by Shola Balogun
2016-10-16 12:08:01
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Metaphor of My Wasteland

The chorale of the balladist in the Akropolis is the metaphor of my wasteland.
There is communion in the silence of the millstones and in the dimness of the eyes.
There is union in the absence of songs
and in the ravages of the sun.
Restless run of the unrest at the polling booths is for rice. My people pant after rice.
The beggars and the abandoned street children grope for oil lamps as darkness draws the veil over their plea to the state.
Patrol wagons rid the streets of probing eyes of the poor.
There is bond in solitude
and in the limits when the heart envy the birds.
The loneliness of the homeless is the metaphor of exile.

waste01_400


    
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