esterday, I slept the sleep of the vanquished,
For long it has been my wish,
Mukyaala, Kyeishiki,
Eishi!
Then I dreamed of the boys running with Blackie ,
Our treasured hound,
Among several hounds,
Tirelessly running
around the house,
Which the Mum turned into a home,
Albeit life, can be alone,
Many a time,
A lonely encounter,
These COVID-19 times!…
There was this time,
When Blackie tripped Ta, to the ground,
They both teamed and teared
The dad adding a tear,
With fear..
Then his brother picked and dusted them,
Both without much bother,
Under that cold weather,
Under that leafy avocado tree
..
Then the cock started to crow,
And we lit
up the charcoal stove,
And sentenced him to death raw,
By loosing his neck,
Whence a neck-less..
That night of roast,
Like the venture in the jungle forest..
We needed to rest!
Fare thee Blackie,
The truth, we loved you,!!!
Carcass of the hound,
Dead
of the wounds..
