What’s In A Name

Leaving no stones unturned for relevancy,
The dead are used for personal gain you see.
If even at this juncture we cannot come together,
Best we go our separate ways now and forever.

The relatives of the dead seem to have no say whatsoever,
While you, me and them are fighting over and over,
I hope it’s confine to just war of words,
Lest our greater goal gets more blurred.

What’s in a name you say?
That which we call a Kuki by any other name would still live and die a Kuki.
Yes, I am no Shakespeare and I am no poet,
But what I just said is no secret.

I fear the day when the dead
Will crawl out from their 6 feet deep bed.
Speaking different dialects yet united,
From Solidarity Martyrs’ Park they’ve all fled

Make no mistake my kinsmen
Hear, hear all ye tribesmen
Let’s put aside our petty dispute
Or choose to live our lives in servitude.