Defunct Poem by Wilson Tinotenda Waison

Once again it paid a visit
Its sweet bitter memories unfolding
With sorrowful melodies reverberating
All night, tears stampeding of checks
To wet the dryness of the domain. The garden spade for honest agriculture
Now awaits to dig the death pit
Deep into a trench
For it had strike at the wrench
From a distant, moans broke
The dead silence of that winter night
Women and children left in despair
To men, turmoil inflicted by circumstances
Justice being a misfit
She was already history
And most could not foretell this tragic mystery
Whiçh unfolded that night
Yes, she was dead!

Grandma