Monday 6 May 2013

Between the devil and the deep waters

I feel waterlogged
No matter how much I try caulking the waters away from me
The deep waters keep coming 
With a huge conviction to get to me

When I look in the horizon,
there are monster rocks too
They seem ready to crush me to death if I run towards them for shelter.
I seem to have fewer options.

I have looked closely at Me
My beautiful landscape was there
There is no confirmation of that now, save for a shattered bridge
That is a symbol of what was there.

My head has been buried in the sand, to escape the perils of fanaticism
To my surprise all my efforts have become so pointless
My beautiful landscape is becoming ruined by the day
And I have no other options but lift my head up

My choices are limited?
Do I allow myself to drown in the deep waters of bigotry
Or make a run towards the approaching devil’s monster rocks?
Or roll over and die despicably irate?

Oh! Why should our existence be so testing?


Celiwe Ngwenya

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