Rhythms and rhymes
resurrected from the known tomb
of a legendary writer,
Lines lost to the grave
at the expedient behest of death the ultimate angel of doom.
Poetry as fair and fie as nature,
Words exhausted to their immortal end,
huffing and puffing to Marechera's Black Sunlight,
i see his House of Hunger
turning into a monumental structure
One more puff please before i turn over to the next page.