Shortlisted
Requiem
St. Joseph’s College, Justin Tang, Poetry: Group 4
In pace, in memoriam
the late olgoi-khorkhoi;
a sandy columbarium
there lay eternal joy.
If heard you not this creature’s name,
there’s no call for dismay;
you need not shield your face in shame –
it’s dead now anyway.
Before, believing its decease
was none but trivial,
pray let me weave my tale in peace,
about this animal.
Upon the fowing, bleak terrain
of Gobi’s ancient dunes,
mythology depicted pain
in stock among its runes.
Though old wives’ tale this seemed to be,
it rang with wisdom stark:
that Gobi knew no sympathy;
no place is quite as dark.
‘Beware, my son, this wicked worm
that hunts to kill at night;
exists there not another term
describing worse a plight.
The few who lived to tell had seen
its hide incarnadine;
its foul secretions yellow-green,
it reeked of turpentine.
Its skin had so much potency
a touch meant instant Death;
it’s useless begging clemency
you’re helpless in its breath.
