MIGRANTS
(R. Pillay)
© Ochiltree 136 Publishing (1998)

I am walking across the sea of the dying
The emaciated and meek, from every corpse a ghost is flying
A solitary protest, I hear a faint melody
To my child I sing for I know, in my eyes
a looming death he does see

Such are the million broken dreams, blown away with the dust
The sun is setting on Africa, my memories begin to rust
Bitterness abounds and with the night, our dreams collide

I will keep on walking for I have no grace to fly
I am walking across the sea of excesses

Even the glorious sun, drops his joy and depresses
Through the illusion, there’s a massacre unseen
The horror of the blind, collectively we dream

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From the Album: DARK CORNERS