Wednesday

I am the Dead Man's Growth. Sworn under oath To protect what I loathe My being is my blackness As I consciously follow a forgotten path. My rotten past A joy that fails to last Faces that cannot be seen Whisper cloud secrets That infect me Dominate me And re-educate my subconscious mind. My hell cannot be reached But travels as far as my blind hollows can see. A seed of backward growth Springs a tree of hatred's most. Soundless cries The noise in me now ceases to exist My body is without a voice Logic-defying existence. Winds forget to mourn My death. Clouds drift; sun smiles As who I am Falls with the moon.

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Written by

lindisa-mathabela-1

South African

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