The sovereignty of the lost

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The sovereignty of the lost

By Blessing Mhlanga. 6/7 November 2019.

Who can lift the banners of gone pastures? If we had the privilege, not even the glimpse of crime would exist in our yard. In spite their history, they would have disarmed one’s ability to engage in atrocity of our modern time, in which, even a chicken is eating lion.

A moment of ponder about the greens of yesterday may save the dark piles of now and prohibit the worst from possibly happening in future. Think of the careless bloodshed of one by another, think of the slaughter of our angels, those carrying the light of our tomorrow, think about the past warriors, think of historical icons who sweat blood for the wings of freedom to reign in our sky, think of the heroines who walked barefooted just to give birth to the legends of our existence, see the now and mend the patch.

Here we are now, sipping bruises, dancing with demons of lame lifestyle, glorifying the forsaken leaves of human slavery. For how long are we going to be subjects of loafing, piglets of miserable laughter and heirs of isolated chains?

Believe you me, not even the angels of our time can unchain us from our self-imposed destitute shackles. We are the saviors of our own mess and we have the kisses necessary to cure our curses in our generations.

The tanks of wealth have been hidden by us and within us. The palaces of mine-worth treasures have not been stolen by savages of our imaginary sentiments. The suits of our glamour are too glorious for any human to imitate or trade for whatever worthless penny. You know why, we are still possessing them. Gone tales cannot liberate present calamities nor can they determine a divine sunrise.

The Present is the priceless present we can use to enlighten the dark marrows of our souls, to awaken the angelic stars of our potential, to polish the wrinkles of our bruises, to prune the weeds of our arid garden and establish a planet of green pastures that no force on earth or above can resist.



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