O lovely Oryx

The bright yellow object is becoming faint
Its face now looks pale
Like one crippled with fear, eyes knit
Aye, it cannot notice the rail
Look, look it does not even wait

Now that it has lost its sharp eyes
It is running away
Alas, it feels inferior, sad and wearied
Because it noticed the coming of the white faced
Walking gallantly because of its heaven face

O lovely Oryx!
Gather all you can of thy daily bread
And into the woods seek shelter
Before the jungle’s king take thee for supper
For in the face of this white faced it takes you prey.

Ibrahim, an African, is a passionate writer, a poet, and a columnist. His works has featured in some local magazines. He derives his motivation from nature.

Last updated February 28, 2013