May be
I shall stare at the sun going to sleep
Without having mutilated or killed anyone.
May be
The cold hearths shall one day have fire
And we’ll sit around it as a family again.
May be
Before my ears have gone deaf
I shall hear the trombone
Sounding the end of the plague.
May be
The dove will yet bear a sacred branch
To declare the return of peace and stability.
~ Imelda Mirembe ~
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