I spi'd thru the watery glasses Of your dim'd eyes, And all I saw was a torn soul That sought for solace. I ask myself, where did you stumble? I gaz'd at your torment'd frame All I saw, was a soul drowning in shame, That autonomous figure has shrunk As a dying tree with it fallen leaves and barks. Who extinguish'd that fuming desire that drove you? I'm still clinging on a perfect you in 'legant garments That skin of yours that puff'd sweet aromatic scents, With a commanding presence - your head held high Had you had wings, you'd fly. It puzzles me! how did you become such a filthy sot? I observ'd you, defeat paint'd upon your face A disjoint'd enigma who's no longer in one piece, Your selfish ego blind'd and divorc'd you from love And now, you're just a seclud'd dove. Tell me! What ensu'd to the man of integrity - an icon? Soar! Soar from the anguishing flames of hell And break free from the clamps and that mental cell, Be the icon I knew, once more Soar! Be a lion and roar.
© Thabani Linda Tshabalala
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