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Solitude Ntaoleng

Amok poison

the outside is blind

lacking direction because my soul is frustrated, in my own living room yet it feels like I am in the middle of a road that has no beginning, only the bitter-sweet end. Everything here is sozzled and shobby  but at the same time is armophous-lacking shape and form. I look in the mirror and I see a reflection that is formidable and willing to take a stand-unlike the pathetic blend of weakness and confusion that is me, awkward in every state. I can feel something inside of me so strong and battling the outside world– winning with every stroke and blow, yet still I am bound to something that is weak and procrastinating; a word that is like a tired devil on stilettos. The earthly vessel can not comprehend this amok, distasteful war going on. I know what I know what my enemies do not know I know because they are  yet to fight their own battles.

(2014)

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Solitude Ntaoleng
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