The day drowns on
in the deep dam of darkness.
Just like hours get burried
in the secretive heart of time.
The sun steadily slumps
on the big bossom of the night.
Vulnerably it swiftly vanishes
like vapour escapes through the sky
Dusk now seems so bold
like a mountain that can not be moved.
It paints everywhere with its complexion-
a replica of the beautiful African skin.
Here u still solemnly sit, still
in the heart of my room.
Battling hard to write a poem,
like an impotent cloud tries to cry.
My pen's blood seems dry and my fingers are starved of strength.
I'm as helpless as a drowning stone
that can not cry for help.
