I am scared
I am scared.

Help everyone I can't,
the number is rising
my heart is thumping.

a second come- a second go,
I see my life is fading
I see the casket of my own body
it is leaving , he is leaving,

The soil heavily pressing on him,
he can't breathe , he is suffocating.

He look around it is confirmed
He is not ready- he is scared,
how can he count it, in Roman's numerals?
It can't be nigh he want to be high,

high of books, high of knowledge,
but he can't climb up the ridge.
he have dreams but can't be deferred
but still he is scared.

His chap chirp like caged bird
he tried to comfort him, he is distant,
the instant of his death shock him
"Sorry bra, I am scared,"

I walked away he couldn't hear me.

grow older than I am :
I want to be the first to taste the rain
I learnt to be tired of pain
so, please , dear baby of mine , help me grow.

Grow among the thorns
shine though it pit my bones
be my back bone once more.

If no twice be it forever,
life after life will not hurt;
besides, you not honey ,honey , you don't get me sick.

With my sick moods you kiss my cheek
till the bloom in my cheek blossom
The frown on my forehead blown away
like the bark of the yelling dog.

my hair burn down in bald
my house burn in ruins
don't know if running is the option.

Help me grow so to touch the skies,
but the skies shine will be better with you.

May God show me the way
for I  fled to the edge where I lost my way,
where I am surrounded with logs.

come and rescue me
among the mist of my heart
where they call I have to listen.

does it really talk?
Does it talk with it palpation,
maybe the bathing of blood?

come and rescue me
from the secrets of my heart
as I burn from the high volts of my heart.

come and rescue me
where I needed you I discarded you
I chose my ways away from you.

your etiquette I left alone with biting cold
where grass leeches every page
of your scripture.

I am tamed a sinner as I failed
to tame my tongue as your etiquette
stated .

come and rescue me
for my heart ekes me out.

From dusk to dawn,
Pain to rain
with water showering
the face of the innocent.
I was innocent then
so lovely made
And peacefully protected
From the tripling thundering
thunderstorms, as my heart thundered
Of creeps , creeping my feet.
Oh my mama made me.
When the enemies
put adversity of pain before me
Guess what, she prepared a table
of joy , giddy .
I stepped and rose .
When thorns , they laid , my carpet-
She shamelessly made me a bed of roses.
She said ," Roses are red."-
Mama the sky is blue.
You made me
Mama made me.

Can you tell me what's it:
All the beautiful feelings I use
to have flopped down,
Have buried themselves on their hands,

Please -

Can you tell me what's it,
all the people I use to love , now ,
Know are gone ,
Homeless I feel.
What is it?

With all these words of beauty are
substituted by the venoms,
Now I feel like everything is a norm.
Can you tell me?

Why I fail to attain my solid state,
I melt down with this burning flame
I have took hell from afar to me
What there is the hell with me?

Please -

God take my li...

**** the prayer I pray lately-
I am scared of this pain,
How am I going to be able to handle death
I uttered an idiocy.
What is it?

No one wanna stay
and talk for awhile
maybe the mist will clear*

My heart have took it course to other
sad side of the sea,
Tryna clean itself of the red.
Can you tell me what is it?

With the sad songs recorded
lyrics written and cancelled-
can't describe the issues of heart.

All the ease are the demons
but the Godly seems fairly hard to follow
Can you tell me what is it?

Why the pen have became so familiar of
every freaked out letter I write
for it write non-stop .
But still dead I feel.
What is it?
...

The crux point of Heart Skipping.
Running the stairs of Table mountain,
Skipping the steps of Izintaba Zokhahlamba,
Point to take another step forward,
Another day to fast forward my life,
Change the channels to 886,
86 the distortions ,
Morning noons.

Woe, my stomach is sick,
Tired of the ***** kicked nowhere,
Sick of all the goodies of where,
My stomach is sick.

Sick of butterflies that perch
and flutter, celebrating my not yet death ,
Slowly I die.

Surely, dead roses I will be buried,
My tombstone engraved THE GRAVED,
INGCWABA LOFILE(Grave of the death)
Love killed the death.

Bengifile the time ufika(I was dead the time you pitch)
Then, you breathed into my mouth
your soul of life
You were my last life.

My stomach is sick.

Mountain flower ,
She kept on flowering,
She gave the green grass utmost flowering,
She kept on flowering
Onto the rocks of the mountain
She grew and glowed
Away from the shades of darkness
She ran and rest at the shades of light.
With the rock ahead , she turned,
With the baking sun
She longed for the cool shade
under the vine ,climbing on another vine.
She ogled like a seductive goddess ,
Like boiling water she kept boiling.
Mountain flower.

On my own,
The gun busted with a loud sound,
The children ran to their parents,
Chicks to their chicken parents,
Cubs to their lion parents,
Friend to  friend,
Worshipers to their gods,
I cried,
no one show empathy,
I shouted no one heard,
I seek,
Every week
every hour but I was,
On my own

I walked down,
down the street,
searching for a place nowhere to be found,
A place to hide,
A place to survive,
Searching a place to acquire
what?Hospitality.
A place where there is,
No xenophobia,
Racism,
nor rapists but,
Where there is peace,
Love,
Kindness and well-being.
One nation, different languages.

I refrain from walking,
And looked around the place,
Which I called a "Quest",
I searched but I obtained
a little.
I cried but I was,
heard by the few.
I asked but,
but a few replied.
One nation, different languages.

Once upon a time,
Our leaders said,
said we are one nation,
Our leaders said,
we are the rainbow nation.

A rainbow does not lose,
Its colours,
It trap them,
As a chicken covering it chicks.
One nation, different languages.