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"I was here", the writing on the wall said.

Her cold body lying down on the mat,
Decorated in the lifeless blood
She was drowning in...
Her eyes almost seemed at ease.

Somewhere between the seduction of suicide
And the myriad of regret,
Before she let herself slip
Into the unknown,
She must've realised she'd never feel again

Pretty girl,
Known by all,
And loved by none.  

You chose to make death your saviour

I can still hear your laughter
When I told you life was beautiful.

You were haunted, gentle girl
But you were my secret lover.
If I were to write a letter
It'd be to the lowest of Jungle -
The **** of the world.

To those who find it difficult living outside
Of the shells they use to keep the world away

I'd use my dying breath to whisper warnings

"Trouble is on the loose!"

My darlings, the world is dark.
The hunter, the hunted and the haunted
Are on a murderous rage!
There's no peace in the land of the living
For those with a conscience!

I'd tell them to wear their shells tighter,
To hold on the silence of the woods
And heighten their defences

If I were to write a letter,
It'd be to myself.

"The shell is a cage", I'd warn
The vultures too will die
The wolf will one day feed the ground

Yes! The gazelle is killed
The meerkat lives in retreat
And all that does not eat is eaten,
But they shall have lived  

They shall have lived!
They shall have felt the rush of being alive
They shall only die once
When I die
Spread My Ashes
On The First
Of Summer's Nights.

Let My Ashes Roam
The City When The Moon Shines.
That She May Bare Witness To My Life

Let Her Cough Out The Truth Of My Existence
Of How Perfectly Imperfect My Life Was
On This Cold, Cold World.

The Wolves,
The First Of The Children Of The Night
Will Sing A Requiem
The Timid Dare Not Sing

Let My Ashes Be Spread In Secret

That Only Those Who Truly knew Me
Will Look Back On My Life
And Know I've Gone Where No Mortal Can Go

And Let The Winds ******* Across
The Beautiful Night,
Until I Rest With Ease On The City Skyline.

The Only Heaven I Will Ever Know
You
Are
Unknown

Maybe
Unknowable

Not to me

Spinning
Tales

A
Fraction
Of
Truth
In
Each

To
Buy
Belief

A­t what cost your cloak?

At what price your solitude?

To
Never
Let
Love
In

Or
Risk
Truth
Out

I
Would
Cut
My
Heart
Out

Put
It
On
A
Platter

If
I
Believed

It
Could
Make
You
Happy

For
Just
One
Day
Transgressive freeverse
  Jul 1 Mandla Wa'Ntima
Chris
Sign me up
Send me in
Equip me
With a pen.

Hold it tight
Aim it right
Take your pick
Feel the kick

Peaceful notes
Left behind
Makes you want
To rewind
I'm joining the military soon. I'm not necessarily anti-war, nor pro-war, but this just came to me. Enjoy.
In My Younger And More Noble Days
When Children Were Told Tales
Of Monsters Under Their Beds
And Men Slaying Dragons

A Young Angel Visited Me
“You Must Be The Purest Thing I've Seen”, I said

“Oh, Child!”, she sighed
“Purity Is Found In The Eyes Of He Who Seeks To Find It. I'm Neither Pure nor Evil. I'm What Your Fears And Beliefs Tell You I Am”
A night owl in the harvest moon
was awake till the crack of the dawn
but wasn’t surfing online, wasn’t rowing
the boat in the digital river.
Deep down to a dreamweaving scene
that was, in musing, painstakingly creative.

Wait till you snap up a witty aphorism.
The darling buds of May will be in bloom.
The tickled pink nightingale too will
give out its voice, singing a song.
Save a copy and tweet it to all,
but do give us a demo, tell us a bit more.
Where does it shine and sizzle?
Where did the winter tuck away the rose?
This is a poem from my book Zero and One available on Amazon.
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