The murder scenes continue
On my papers so cute.
My pen is the victim,
Ferociously starved of its blood and lymph.
I'm the callous murderer
But I seem not to bother.
I don't need a defense counsel
Cos my cases are obviously goanna to sell.
It is as speechless as silence,
With no iota of violence.
Painlessly its blue-blood flowed with ease,
To make my pellucid lines an awesome piece.
This is no doubt a poetic murder
That will surely take me beyond Africa's border.