The truth about us

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The truth about us


By Blessing Mhlanga

Our eyes only dream the fad,
Who knows when our souls will soar upstream?
Tastes and textures of fragrant pleasure ascend still,
But no one knows the source of their eruption.
Perhaps it's because we're married to unbuttered identities.

Days smile and smoke our moments,
Yet we ignore the thunders of fate,
Which if not hijacked, would toxic unborn generations.
We murmur against our terrors,
But we forget the viruses of our errors.

Our drive to fly beyond the sky,
Is our only hope to dive ahead.
But what if our borrowed wings weep for their owner,
Whom we claim to adore and cherish.
Yet we're charming them with serpent lips.

The wells of honey dominate our wishes.
We persist ahead against the current,
Without finding the switches of our souls' candles,
Which if kindled, can heal our worst curse,
And forbid calamity to shine again.

Our thick skins longs for fresh breeze,
That will make our dams pregnant of milk,
That will furnish our palaces with pure identity,
That will polish our floors with genuine souls,
And restore back the stolen truth about us.

...........................................................................

By Blessing Mhlanga.

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