I.
Anytime, I peer at the wind
fondling the nudity of the Sahara.
I see bombs, dynamites, Shrapnel,
being defecated on the the walkway to peace.
Propagandas being etched
on the nucleus of politics.
Termites of corruption
feasting on the root of development.
II.
Anytime, I listen to whispers
blaring forth from the larynx of posterity.
I hear dirges eulogizing the corpse of policies.
Committees now undertakers.
Sirens of ambulances mourning
another avoidable accident.
Pharaohs’ making roll calls,
drinking from the gourd of absolutism.
I hear pangs of yesteryear
mourning the aimlessness of our present.