Trapped within this heat there’s an
Ocean of thoughts defeating me.
Suicide has come and gone even death
Is confused. I am awake yet the whole
Of ikasi is half-asleep.
Conflict between races: black, white, yellow,
I mix these colors and get red for bloodshed
Bombarding my mind as I choose my artillery:
Butcher’s knife or bread knife? Mxm **** it, I opt to
Load my machine gun as I take no prisoners.
I live only by one rule “spare not the feelings of those
Who have none.”
As my stu-stu-stu-stuttering riffle goes “tat’ i cover lova,”
They blaze to bushes with rampaging speed and seeing as my weight
Constitutes a majority of ten, I choose to be democratic and side with its
Vote, by not running but instead sending a hail of bullets.
Voetsek, Voetsek and Voetsek I say!!
As dusk breaks into dawn I am shattered into reality as prison introduces me to myself. I started shaking like the last shivering leaf on a dying tree and came to realize: The person whom I slaughtered was not only my neighbor, but was also my brother and if I have to suffer for my brother whom they call ikwerekere to survive, then I say “give me pain till I die!”.