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 </div><p style="text-align: center;">…there is sadness in the face of the moon.</p>
<p style="text-align: center;">Boom boom!<br>
Marauders at the door.<br>
Boom boom!<br>
Gory chunks on the floor.</p>
<p style="text-align: center;">Marauders;<br>
those marauders;disgruntled fragments of the Sahara storms;<br>
with blood as token toast,broke into our dozing homes,<br>
transcending into our deepest dreams;their sword of enemy deep;<br>
like thorny rain in soundless nightmare, their talons in our sleep.</p>
<p style="text-align: center;">Marauders!<br>
Stained with blood,sweat and tears of fleeting souls.<br>
When darkness fought the sun,marauds their pungent soles.<br>
These marauders;<br>
of whom our trust belie,<br>
wade unto us but death;taking from our scream – delight.<br>
Fiery storm – their whirling eye,raining tears of flame.</p>
<p style="text-align: center;">Left in painful emotional wrecks;our turgid hopes untamed.</p>
<p style="text-align: center;">Marauders!<br>
Those marauders;of the sahara wind blown,<br>
on those mountains south;sung macabre song,<br>
beating Gatling drums;dancing us to early eternal beds.<br>
Oh!<br>
Fresh widows-baggy-hearts;<br>
terrified in the consuming-vastness of now empty beds,<br>
an appalled receding fertility…<br>
Pity.!</p>
<p style="text-align: center;">Marauders!</p>
<p style="text-align: center;">When…<br>
within decrepit walls;our western wisdom seek,<br>
Soaked in loamy yield;our tillers hoe speak,<br>
market wrappers dodging glides;steady-vigour-taint,<br>
four legged fielders stride;devouring may green paint.<br>
Hither came marauders,as ruthless as jungle beasts<br>
engaged on sumptuous fields;trampled upon our peace.</p>
<p style="text-align: center;">Marauders!<br>
When their bullets greeted,responded our hoes;<br>
as we dug for life,our eyes almost met our toes.<br>
Stolen from us our breaths, our trunks on our birth soil rot;<br>
left with rubbles of once earthen shelter;providence lot.<br>
Echoes of our cries;marauders ignite,long shall lingers.<br>
Like the dried-living-tree postures,skywards our praying fingers.</p>
<p style="text-align: center;">…there is sadness in the face of the moon;<br>
but the sun once again promises laughter.</p>
 
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 christopher labesa </a>
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MARAUDERS by Christopher Labesa
