Manyatseng

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A darkness fell upon Manyatseng,  
The people bowed their heads in despair.  
Cries of anguish echoed through the streets,  
While knives flashed, slicing the heavy air.  

The city slept beneath a veil of sorrow,  
A gunshot pierced the silence of the night.  
Boys played at being bulls, reckless and wild—  
To whom shall I cry, I, a child of men?  
To whom shall I plead, trapped in this endless night?  

The people of this land are ruled by iron,  
And the women wept, their voices frail.  
Their tears fell heavy, mourned by the boys,  
The boys who claimed to master the tale.  

I held my head and wandered on,  
I wandered, seeking the lion's lair—  
A hidden lion that stalks my flesh,  
You are lost, Manyatseng, lost to despair!  

©Author Brian Makara 2025


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