My Heart. Poem by Thabani Khumalo

It is hard to tackle responsibilities on empty pockets and a sober head, suicide may seem expedient on such a given circumstance.
Rather my heart do ebb and heal.
Though they tout it be a scary- mountain- height And tough as its rock stone summit peaks
Heaped upon dark caves from creation times, on a massive boulder of the timeless being called the Tiamat.

O! The crisscrossing sinister within my callous heart,
Slight unsavory and yet much it is grueling bitter.
In a demise and in murder does my spirit deign too feeble - A patched and dry river of a dreamless night - under the host of stars that keenly dazzle with an immeasurable glare of mystic beauty, I prowl about and all alone, wondering, yearning, craving the blood of man.

Until when will I keep fighting this marvelous demon of my own? I should only realize the answer as being me quickly laying to rest my weakling soul, the soul my spirit has forever loathed
Because, in spirit, I am an entity of legions.
I am Leviatan the prowly and lurky monster -
I am Belial the scorching flame of a big fire.