The Tales Of Kalakala Poem by Hannington Mumo

Many tales vanish into clogged memories
And end up in history's dust bin untold;
So this would have had I remembered not
Of that odd and weird land called Kalakala,
Where the sun rises like any other, mildly hot,
Progressively hotter and then mild again,
Strain and struggle their chorus and refrain.

Neighbor turned against neighbor,
Kin turned murderous on kin,
Life was not like it was in other places
Full of absurdities from even to morn,
Robbed of the familial affectations and graces,
Cruelty and brutality the order of the day;
Inclemency and revenge there the life's way.

And when another poem on Kalakala I write
I shall tell you all in a single normal-size stanza:
The nonchalance of the government of the day,
And the unfeeling appetites of the rapturous pseudo-clergy.
It must not be a long verse in the long-winded way,
Nay! A normal stanza of lines say five or six,
Guess such a short poem might do the trick.