Antigone

Poor creature, standing up beside the hearth
Weeping for her brother’s death
Trying to find a place, her thoughts to settle,
Searching deep to find her mettle
Her brother should get the deference he deserves,
Even though the evil eye carefully observes
There, the shadows scream and crawl,
Trying to foment her soul
Like a scavenger that marauds at night,
The place is dark, but her eyes are bright
A lump of fear is coming down her chin,
She has to dig up a hole, to put the carrion in
And as the silhouette from the top of the hill sees,
She silently finishes the obsequies


Endrit Agolli