MASS BURIAL

There is a death in death
Which births dread and sheds hope
Of a revival, maybe as a punishment
…for swerving survival
I dread your deaths
As I pray, touching on all cultural send offs
…in my mind for all yous
…sharing a big tomb
When the wombs which birthed your existence
…knew not each other

II
I smell your hurts in your stench
…your pain in your rotting
…your dreams in your muted screaming
…your lack of closure in your last exposure
I see the restlessness of your spirit
…the anxiety in thoughts of many a waiting
…your fears of the journey of the unknowing
And your sadness of no tears
…raining to wet the dust off your painful journey
So I cry a sky full for you
Wailing
…hoping yonder world will be attracted into a hailing
…just to curb your weeping

III
None knows the threats which pushed you
…into fridges none of your people could find
None knows the errands which saw not your delivery
None knows your last visions and thoughts and fears and tears
None can smell the complaints in your blood
But for whatever it is worth
This here soul prays
…hoping to thaw your fright
…and to ease you into your right paths
To a rest where death has no right of contest
…talk less of a conquest

IV
Go well through the Police Hospital route
Even if you feel the crowdedness of your tomb
Go well even if you miss the warmth of your coming womb
Sleep well even if your bed reeks of other spirits
Mark no names of talkatives
Just pour your all out till sundown
Hold hands and walk to your afterlife
The journey, I know,
…will not be lonely
No matter how sad waiting homes pose
As they await the voices buried with you
Rest you well
Ye poor souls buried like crowds
With no audiences but law enforcers
The heavens will find ways to soothe your backs
Till a reunion of sorts
Rest Ye all in power unprecedented
Knowing this here soul is like a multitude
One who will amass audiences far and near
…for you
And kill oblivion off your radar
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © March 26, 2021