Poetry

If like Roy Campbell
I could let thunder
flame red out of my words
 
and with truth
striking like a cobra
could paralyse the guilty ones
 
no baboon would have to salute
the rising moon
or Shaka would not have to rise
from the dead,
as my words would show direction
with magical power of their own.
 
Let every thing that I write
not only struck the mark,
but be the conscience
of this country
and stay behind
as a part of me
 
and let the ones that read my poems
be swept along
into a own world
 
and give big power
to the words that I leave behind,
that with time
my words become exceptional.
 
{References:  Far be the bookish muses! and To a pet cobra by Roy Campbell.]