He At The End Of Two Routes Poem by Ofentse Mercy Hajane

I stood outside the walls of a maze.
Two exits stood watching my paralyzed face.
My eyes sizing my chance way through,
But none seem to comfort the thought of survival.
I put a rock beneath my feet to scout out as far as I could on one path of the maze.
Down its valley it seems peaceful enough.
There are also villages round about it,
And about it so there are those I used to call friends.
This path seemingly being walk on many times,
But still smell of fresh Eden.
I change the course of my focus on the other.
It too just as the other one seemed less horrid,
And walked on before.
I try to shoot my eyes as far as I could down its valley,
But a robe of fresh green in the dawn of morn covered it heavily.
For my friend has traveled the other,
I would take the other less different from his.
From the books we learnt from,
Told that when one man equally take the other half of the moon.
Take the other as well.
For when you meet.
The moon will be complete again.



Ofentse Mercy Hajane