In Isolation Poem by Wilson Tinotenda Waison

In Isolation



I could perceive the drum
From a desolate direction
As it echoed destiny
Fate twisted and renounced
Blue, grey, red
Portrays the barren picture
That twigs in my scruples
As I think…
Of miserable ideas
So grim like horror
In this terror
Old foes I befriend
In this forlorn global village
Of a savage populace.

In Isolation
COMMENTS OF THE POEM
READ THIS POEM IN OTHER LANGUAGES

Wilson Tinotenda Waison

St. Mary's clinic, Chitungwiza Harare Zimbabwe
Close
Error Success