A History Of Kings In Mountains/ Swaziland Poem by Sarah Mkhonza

The day comes when a king must bow out.
Skin to skin the body wrapped must go up.
The march beginning at early dawn ends up.
The shouldered dead once shouldered alive.
Is laid down outside a cave to watch out.
The nation must be watched by these rulers, who lived life to prove they were.

The space inside is found. A halo once worn is a halo lost. ThingS in time mean
things in season. Lay him here where the
others have made him room.

Left to hyenas and jackals this bundle of
kingship watches the rest of us with the royal eye. We live to see how fortunate
the watching kings have made us. At the
end of one kingly watch.

Hard is the road that leads up there.
Single is the journey that accompanies kings to the resting place of watch kings.
Will you dare to be a king or a queen or a follower?