Who Will Call Brada Apamdi Again? Poem by Umu Ezionum

She goes beneath.
Beneath, beneath where echoes
of sigh is never heard, are never heard.
Who will call brada apamdi again?
Who?
Perhaps my thoughts
when they long for that which is gone.


But who will call brada apamdi again?
Who?
Who will greet me with two teeth?
Who?
Who will run to me with feeble feet?
Who?


I will weep,
let tear flows and sadness
encompass me.
For I have partake of the abominable
The old bury the young
Who will call brada apamdi again?