DUMBE

 In the countryside,

An unfamiliar name was pronounced, 

It is said to be a great god

Of an unfamiliar tribe. 

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Like the ark of the covenant

It is holy and unblemished 

Taking down the touch of filthiest souls 

Without recompense. 


Dumbe is the name.

Not a facade but a wall

Of defence to the pilgrimage 

Unbending its purpose of Peace and Unity. 


It grounds to earth those that fight an offspring 

Conquering evermore the embittered emissary 

Who peradventure serenaded the song of Bloodshed.

It is Dumbe, the supreme Cult Hero

Who maims and mends

But of the souls of the offspring. 


Born of fair skin

Mother of red wine

Dumbe is the ice cream of a taste 

In the drums of wars.

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