Damned 2 Poem by Ofentse Mercy Hajane

Soaking deep in a pool of fire,
Places of worlds thought to be relics in my head.
Drums drumming heartedly.
The dead are not really dead,
They just spookily dancing in my head.
Buildings of plastics torched down by breaths of dragons.
Fossils of wars between god and time,
Wrinkled the earth with pain.
Time with anger,
God with hate.
Dark clouds sponged up blood.
Innocence thundering off,
Away from shadows seeking their curses lifted up.
Far off the east horizon,
Space whitening.
Crumbling before such break of the day,
Men held high capes of darkness.
Shadowing their vaporizing faces.
Blue,
Yellow,
Green,
Brown,
Their predatory eyes shone.
Vines thick as trunks,
Tangled up men like a fly in a spider web.
Some weeping endlessly,
Some stood as the brightness of death slowly approaches.

Chant from the baby's mouth as,
An old faint woman stood rocking it to sleep on her chair.
Soldiers mightily marching through.
Those with good sight noticed her dead fair faint bones slowly rocking in a chair.
The rebels, unwillingly about to clash arms with armies of 6 months fetuses.
Reminding them of the scourge of abortion.

Gladly in the end,
All that set to ground on earth shall meet the same dark fate as any mighty king or peasants shall.


By Ofentse Mercy Hajane