Raw
Raw feeling undiluted,
Raw years of a deep yearning,
One of fulfilment of a role long left vacant,
Let my raw wounds tell a story,
Let them fill my tears with phrases
Like melodic chimes on a winter morning.
Cunning black dilapidate in a ravenous thunder;
My love for you almost poisonous
But permanently tattooed in my heart
Till when will my cries be on mute?
Till when will your love stop being a craving,
A drug needed to intoxicate my once intoxicated heart
You cry but your tears are like daggers,
Conspiring together to tear to shreds a once free flying butterfly
Leaving a raw taste of emptiness
Crinkled up with no hope of a better day
L. Ngema
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