The world has gone to pieces Little remnants of glory trickle down our feet


By Evelyne Ongogo Okoth

The world has gone to pieces
Little remnants of glory trickle down our feet
As we desperately watch a world
That was once full of bliss and hope tearing down to pieces
We weep and tear,
We mourn the uncertainty of the next hour
We carry huge burdens of tomorrow’s sorrow like a hunch on a camel’s back!
But who will relieve us?
We cry!

Like a pregnant sea of liquid mass
We spill into deserts of melancholy
And blame the games we once played
We praise names that hated us
We curse names that loved us
If it wasn’t me…then a neighbour it was!
If it wasn’t us… then it was them!
Spears of hatred point at each others chest
And we won’t move closer anymore
I cry!

But where did we go wrong?

Did we make it by ourselves?
Or break it by ourselves?
Did the bucket,
From the kicks of our feet fall?
I cry!

Today we work hard
Toil and strain without sleep to make all that soon falls in the abbys of vanity
We break our backs in gardens making hay for tomorrow’s feed
Then all of a sudden all is eaten by a swarm of locusts in a day
Men, women and children down their tools and watch, wrapped in hopelessness as the world falls to pieces
A pregnant woman who went down her knees and fasted to God for a little bundle of joy is today lost in wonder what kind of world meets the unborn,
Surely I cry!

What life is good life without a handshake?
What life is a worthy life without a hug from a loved one?
What life……
Surely, is a healing life without wiping a tear of a heartbroken neighbour?
If I cannot sit it a car with my own better-half
Or breastfeed my own child,
Would I call that happiness?
If I cannot gather my students-
… And teach … and mold … and prepare them for tomorrow
Would I hope for a good future if even that tomorrow is of little hope?
And if I cannot trust my own fingers
And wipe my face to clear my visage
Then what should I trust in this string of life?
If I cannot trust my own mother’s hand for a meal to serve
Then I’m in pieces whose value is worthless!

But how shall we gain our lost glory
When the icons of prayer we once trusted and looked upto
Fought in the pulpits pulling a fist and spewing big and small insults to gain the space
Their anger risjng against each other over non-religious taste of reasons both physical and financial to the extent of stabbing each other in the pulpit
Perhaps they annoyed God!
Their subjects, torn in wonder of who to back up as if in a religious opposition where hearts and souls fill the air with curses that perhaps irked God more

The air is empty of blessings
Waters are intoxicated with hatred
The cruel winds have blown glory away
We are naked of faith!
We are lost!
We spew tasteless words to God
We spew songs of scorn and mockery
Dance the jigs of the demon glorifying doom
The creator is mad!
He is annoyed!
He has let the earth go to pieces!
I don’t know…..
He…. is … annoyed with us!

Take us back GOD…
Let us know if we should say goodbye to each other
Let us know if we should wash our garments and bid each other well
For we have lived together as neighbours for years
Let us know
So we don’t cry when we part ways
We are lost in confusion

CORONAVIRUS and LOCUST could be your Acronyms of hidden words in a puzzle
Give us the meaning in the message.

#Evelyne Ongogo Okoth


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