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The Skeptre

Meshack Bwoyele Keya 1960 (Vihiga)



Drip, drip, drip

Something dropped from nowhere

Its sound fell with the heartbeat

I felt weak

I clutched firmly to the skeptre

Involuntarily

My hand flew to my forehead

I touched something wet

It smelt blood

The smell was overbearingly strong.



I began drifting to sleep

The action uncontrollable and with urgency

I could not tell time and position

"Where was I?"

"What happened?"

I was going fast

My energy concentrated on the skeptre



Soon I was oblivious of anything

I felt the skeptre drop to the ground

"What was I doing?"

In the distance the war cry sounded

Is life worthy fighting for

Here I am

The king to be

Lying in a pool of blood

The skeptre of power on the ground

About this poem

Is it a dream?

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Submitted by baby_p on June 04, 2021

Modified by baby_p

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    "The Skeptre" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2022. Web. 26 Jun 2022. <https://www.poetry.com/poem/101832/the-skeptre>.

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