Mbala

In a shop of drums, Mbala stands,

Amidst the rhythms and the bands.

Her eyes alight with curiosity,

In a world of beats, a vibrant sea.

But a sign catches her gaze,

Bold and clear in its phrase:

"You bang it, you buy it," it reads,

A warning echoing through the reeds.

With gentle touch, she explores,

Each drum, each beat, each encore.

Careful not to disturb the air,

Yet longing to feel the music's flare.

Mbala dances on the edge,

Between temptation and the pledge.

To unleash the thunder within her soul,

Yet wary of the price, the toll.

For in this shop of drums so grand,

Each beat carries a demand.

To own the rhythm, to make it sing,

But at what cost, what offering?

So Mbala stands, in quiet awe,

Respecting the rule, the law.

For though the drums may call her name,

She leaves them be, untamed.