There Be A Tomb Poem by Emmanuel George Cefai

There be a tomb
Cold is the name….

When the winds come over the
Slopes
From what was the Valley

The Winds will turn red with rage in the sloping
Funnel

The I
The I
The I

I want to hear Winds gyrating in the Funnel
And I will dusk to be past
And the night-dews have
Begun
Peaceful

I will to have a little peace amidst this Ocean
Roaring in troubles

A little calm in these serpent-seething lands
This plain level and
Cold
The Mtahleb cliffs…


It will be rare to hear the Symphony of the Sounds
For funereal it will be

Roll out the waves of subdued green
And white-tongued spume at night…


There were screams
And shrieking rock crevices

There were ghosts and shrouds
And shadows
They were wise
Wisdom was of them
For life was of then
They were unknown philosophers
Who carried wisdom, thought, philosophy
Life was of them, life was in them.
And written in them were the stars and moon.