In Memory Of Lucky Dube (A Eulogy)

The weather was not favourable,

Nothing was adaptable;

The ground was too hot for any sole

And the blazing air was too hot for any flying soul

Because beasts among men had turned life cold

But he was just a lone cub – bold.

 

Even in harsh shoes

He grew to become a fine lion

As ghastly years blew honour

Rapidly into the vale of times

And abandoning MAMA

On the bare sands of a greedy and faithless world,

The whole edifice of MAMA’s pride

Was falling to the dirt;

And her dignity struggled

In the quicksands of sordid scorn,

But he fought gallantly and fearlessly.

 

Lucky fought gallantly

Till death on his usual furtive rounds

Did what he knew best

To break our hearts.

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