Cages from yester roots.


How yester roots cage a man




You long to fly but your wings are bound to the yester forces of undemolished mountains. If only you can realise that your yester rots are praying for a miracle: one that will see you drown in your self dug grave.

I was once like you: wishing to taste the sweet cakes of realism, only to find yourself lost within yourself.
The younger you had a dream, a vision to illuminate not only your dungeons but also enlighten the blinded universe.
Where did that dream go? It got swallowed by the fancy cultures of inner deceit and enslaving labour.

Running very fast but going nowhere - this is your tragedic reality, that you hope to conquer by weeping but only worsening it by seeking relief from enslaving sources.

The seeds of terror that were planted yesterday have given rise to a cage that constantly caress your breath with demonic curses manufactured in Sheol.

Here is the bitter truth: you can't ascend to a glomorous tomorrow if you don't arrest and crucify the yester coackrochies.

Alone, it can't be done. However, it's not an impossible mission, depending on your willingness to taste the creamy butters of your destiny.

By Blessing Mhlanga. 15/ 07/ 2019.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

A mafia tells his tales

Mugabe writes his obituary

Opinion piece: Ancestral worship is a fallacy