The angry sea at kuramo beach

On lazy days we used to sit and watch
The sunset painting the blue sky pink
Silhouetted against the fast fading even times
As the windswept coast fret and fume
Like the breast of a widow

Splashing on strands of quicksilver sand
That separates Lake Kuramo by a narrow margin
The brackish seawater enter the land
 Making it swampy and water logged

Miscreants and beach prostitutes gamble galore
And teenagers mostly weekend picnickers
 Half dressed half naked undaunted by curious on lookers
 Unashamedly rock the immoral tunes
 From the echoes of some depraved band boys

 But when the gods went agnostic
The tides storm tossed the land
Like salt water cowboy
After a long period of anomie

The Mamiwata; the old woman of the sea
 Emptied a reservoir of blood to the museum
 With a mystic mark on their ancient homestead.
Because the shrine of their royal ancestors was despoiled
By the market messengers of a zenith tempest