Voice to the Voiceless Fortune Nwaiwu
32 | P a g e
To the bereaved ! ***
A Night of Horror ( Spoken by the Widow )
What a night filled with cold and darkness . A Night insects and birds Busy humming distressful hymns !
What a cheerless night . Like the night the ancient man groaned Feeling the buzz For lack of companionship , And a helper splashed like a river .
What a bleak night . A night full of fears No one sees but hears strange sounds the sound of footsteps . I look up to myself To discover that I ’ m the night itself wearing a dark , black , sackcloth .
***
When Will it be Over ? ( Spoken by the Widow )
I ask , when will the tempest go , So that a sailor can sail ?