Bamenda Poem by Nkwain Stephen

BAMENDA
At that gloomy moment
when our sighs,
Our cries
And our sorrows
Grew above the brims of misery
And romanced the sky;
Our lord and emperor, bringer of Our woes
Waded through waters of joy.
The clattering of swords
The thundering of guns
Against the unarmed poor us
Was music that spiced his merriments.
The echoes of our mothers'
Saddening cries for fallen sons
Were heard no where.
For the emperor's drums and flutes
Of 'peace' overshadowed them.
Yet I cry not that bitter;
For master of shephard and sheep
Spares never
The shephard that dines and wines
While wolves tear sheep.